"In Thin Air" - Installment Seven - Trust Me
PREFACE
During the Victorian era, “penny magazines”—often called penny dreadfuls—revolutionized storytelling. These serialized thrillers were sold in weekly installments for just a penny, bringing suspenseful tales to the working class and transforming fiction from an elite luxury into an affordable pastime for the masses.
Today, in the Information Age—somewhere between TikTok scrolls and rapidly shrinking attention spans—I’m resurrecting the spirit of the penny dreadful. But this time, it’s completely free, delivered right here on my blog.
So without further ado… (drumroll please)
Welcome to my first serialized short story of "In Thin Air":
Installment Seven
Trust Me
The Monday after the snowstorm, Front Range Energy felt aggressively normal.
Phones rang.
Printers hummed.
Grant in accounting was microwaving salmon again like it was a personal attack on the entire office.
Caroline sat at her desk staring blankly at a spreadsheet while her coffee went cold beside her.
The basement kept replaying in her head.
The mattress.
The lock.
The window well.
Every time she tried to rationalize it away, another detail returned.
A mattress in a basement wasn’t illegal.
Neither was a lock.
Neither was bleach.
Still…
Something about it felt wrong.
Her Outlook notification chimed.
Daniel:
Still alive after the mountain drive?
Caroline stared at the message for a moment before typing back:
Barely. Roads were awful.
Three dots appeared immediately.
Worth it though.
Her stomach tightened slightly.
At lunch, Jenna dropped into the chair across from her carrying a yogurt parfait and enough caffeine to tranquilize a horse.
“You look tired,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“You know what I mean.”
Caroline sighed.
“I barely slept.”
Jenna narrowed her eyes immediately.
“That sounds like a story.”
Caroline hesitated.
Then:
“I went back to Daniel’s house.”
Jenna froze mid-bite.
“The mountain murder chalet?”
Caroline laughed despite herself.
“See, this is why I don’t tell you things.”
“I’m serious,” Jenna said. “You literally met this man on Bumble.”
“He’s normal.”
Jenna gave her a look.
“The fact that you keep saying that is honestly starting to concern me.”
Caroline rolled her eyes and opened her salad container.
“He cooked dinner.”
“Ted Bundy also had hobbies.”
“Jenna.”
“I’m just saying.”
Caroline shook her head.
“He has a dog.”
“Oh well in that case he definitely couldn’t be a psychopath.”
“He has a dog walker too.”
Jenna blinked.
“That’s somehow worse.”
Caroline laughed again despite herself.
For a moment things felt normal.
Easy.
Then Jenna noticed Caroline’s expression shift.
“What?”
Caroline hesitated.
“Nothing.”
“Caroline.”
She lowered her voice slightly.
“There’s just… something weird about his basement.”
Jenna immediately sat forward.
“I’m sorry, his WHAT?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“That sentence has literally never preceded anything good.”
Caroline glanced around the breakroom before continuing.
“There was a mattress down there.”
Jenna stared at her.
“In the basement?”
“Yes.”
“Absolutely not.”
“And a lock.”
Jenna slowly lowered her spoon.
“What kind of lock?”
“Like… industrial.”
“Oh my God.”
“But it could’ve been storage or renovations or something,” Caroline added quickly. “I don’t know.”
Jenna continued staring at her.
“You read the article, right?”
Caroline looked down at her salad.
“Yes.”
“And you still went back there?”
Caroline exhaled slowly.
“When you say it out loud it sounds worse.”
“Because it IS worse.”
Caroline rubbed her forehead.
“I think I’m letting the article get in my head.”
Jenna leaned back in her chair.
“Okay. Serious question.”
“What?”
“Do your friends know where you are when you’re with him?”
Caroline paused.
The question landed harder than it should have.
Daniel had asked her the exact same thing.
“My coworker knows,” she said quietly.
Jenna frowned.
“That’s weird.”
“What?”
“That he asked you that.”
Caroline shrugged too quickly.
“He said it was because of hiking safety.”
“And maybe it is,” Jenna admitted.
Then:
“But I don’t like it.”
Neither did Caroline.
Not entirely.
That afternoon dragged painfully slowly.
By five-thirty, the office had emptied into the cold blue Denver evening.
Caroline packed her laptop into her bag when her phone buzzed again.
Daniel:
Weather’s supposed to clear Saturday. Perfect hiking conditions.
A second message appeared.
I found a trail you’ll love.
Caroline stared at the screen.
Something uneasy twisted low in her stomach.
Then another thought followed immediately behind it:
You’re being paranoid.
People went hiking in Colorado every single day.
People met on dating apps every day.
Not every strange man was secretly dangerous.
Right?
Her phone buzzed once more.
Daniel:
You trust me yet?
Caroline read the message twice.
Then a third time.
Before she could decide why it unsettled her, Jenna appeared beside her desk grabbing her coat.
“You heading out?”
“Yeah.”
Jenna noticed Caroline staring at her phone.
“Daniel?”
Caroline nodded.
Jenna sighed dramatically.
“Please tell me you’re not getting murdered this weekend.”
Caroline laughed weakly.
“That’s reassuring.”
“I’m serious.”
Jenna slung her purse over her shoulder.
“If you disappear into the mountains with a consultant from Bumble, I am absolutely telling police I warned you.”
Caroline smiled despite herself.
“Noted.”
But later that night, lying awake in her apartment while snow tapped softly against the windows, Daniel’s message returned to her.
You trust me yet?
Caroline realized she hadn’t answered.
And somehow…
That felt safer.
Installment Eight arrives next week.
Some roads are easier to enter than escape.
— K
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