Excerpt
As promised, the security guard had been alerted and let me pass after telling me where to park. I walked into the building at the entrance I had examined half an hour earlier on my computer. Aaron met me at the door, and I followed him into his office.
“How are you holding up?” he asked once his door was shut.
How do you reply to a question like that? Had it been two months since his death, I might have had a truer response. “I’m feeling better,” I lied. I knew he was only concerned for me. I didn’t need to reveal the anger inside that was caused by this very place.
“It hasn’t been the same here without him. He’s definitely missed.”
“Thank you.” My response struck me as odd. It was almost like I was glad to hear they missed him. Maybe I wouldn’t have felt so strange had he been gone longer than a couple weeks.
Aaron lifted a box from behind his desk and set it down in the center of the blotter.
“Is that everything?” I asked.
“All I could find.”
“Can I see his office?” Something didn’t seem right. I couldn’t place my finger on it, but even without looking into the box, I knew there was something missing.
He hesitated but agreed to take me there. When we left his office, I looked around as we walked. I noticed the security cameras where I expected to find them. We passed a door on the right, directly across from the security office. I knew it to be the electric room, and the next door down was the server room. Aaron led me to the office that was across from it. I was correct in my assumption about the unmarked room. After he unlocked the door, I followed him in.
I stood just inside and looked around. At first glance, this room didn’t seem indicative of my husband. The walls were almost bare, with only one picture on the far wall behind a black desk with chrome legs. It was one of those Norman Rockwell prints placed in a cheap picture frame. I liked the print, and Norman Rockwell was one of my favorite artists, but whoever chose the black plastic frame had absolutely no real appreciation for the artist. It wasn’t my husband’s picture. That was for certain. It had to have been hung quite recently.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware this was someone’s office now.”
“No one has been moved into this office yet,” Aaron said.
“Oh? I just assumed by the picture.”
I saw his eyes grow large. “I hadn’t noticed that before. Art had a painting there. I recall it being a scene of a creek rushing over large, flat boulders.”
“Yes. The painting was from a photograph of a place he used to swim at when he was a kid.” It wouldn’t fit inside that box Aaron had in his office. That was the missing piece. Judging by Aaron’s surprise, the painting had to be long gone, but I asked anyway. “Do you have it?”
“Now that I think about it, I don’t remember it being in here when I cleared out his desk. Someone must have liked it and grabbed it. I’ll ask around.”
“Thank you.” His body language told me he was telling the truth about the picture, but there had to be a reason for the painting to have been removed. It was too coincidental, given everything else I’d seen. Something sinister was going on in this building. I could feel it. What was worse, I knew my husband had gotten wind of it, and it got him killed.
However, Aaron wasn’t in on it—at least it appeared that way. If he was, he was the best actor I’d ever met. And if I was going to get to the bottom of my husband’s death, I needed someone on the inside that I could trust. I had no choice but to take a chance.
He turned and started to leave the office. I’m sure he expected me to follow. I stopped him. “Do you have a piece of paper and a pencil so I can give you my cell number in case you find it?”
“Um…” He glanced at the desk. There was a legal pad and a cup with a few pens in it. He picked up the paper and grabbed a pen, handing them to me. I tore the top sheet off and scribbled a quick message. Please meet me at the Brown Fox tonight at eight thirty. Urgent. Tell no one. After folding the yellow paper in half, I dropped the pen in the cup and handed the paper to him.