Part 3Dating a Killer Online

Asher said:

[A friend was caught in a tax evasion scandal; I loaned him money to cover it.]

He claimed he was broke, a truly plain and unexciting reason.

I suspected this "friend" was himself.

And a criminal at that.

My enthusiasm started to wane.

I'm a law-abiding citizen, after all.

I opened another chat group, for our building residents.

I asked:

[Who hired a deep-cleaning service today?]

It took a while for someone to respond, a resident on the eighteenth floor.

They asked what I wanted in a rather surly tone.

I wanted them to take a picture of the cleaner.

If he was ugly, I'd know for sure and bolt immediately.

The guy wasn't happy, calling me crazy.

Asher messaged me saying he was heading up.

I gritted my teeth, got dressed carefully, and headed out to the elevator.

I went straight down to the eighteenth floor.

In the elevator, I ran into my next-door neighbor.

She was a single woman, beautiful with a melancholic air.

"Are you my neighbor?" she asked, initiating the conversation. I answered warily.

She was surprisingly friendly, pointing to my bracelet and saying they were identical.

Mine was red; this was my zodiac year. It was quite a coincidence—we were the same age and had the same bracelet.

But I wasn't interested in chatting further.

We parted ways on the eighteenth floor.

As I stepped out, a wave of pungent odor almost made me gag.

One apartment door was wide open, trash spilling into the hallway.

Greasy liquids oozed and pooled, sticky and disgusting.

I cautiously peered through the doorway.

A short, overweight man in a hazmat suit was cleaning up the mess.

I called out softly, and he turned around.

His round face was obscured, a messy beard hiding most of his features.

My heart sank immediately. I pulled out my phone.

Running away, I typed furiously:

[Let's break up. We're not a good fit.]