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"I'll do that. I’ll probably have to hire extra security and put some measures like more cameras in place."
"That will be great. We'll take our leave now, sir."
I watch the detective drive out of the lot and a sudden sense of dread falls on me like a weighted blanket. I trudge back to the office, desperately trying to avoid the image of Sheila's body dominating my mind. It gets worse when I think of Sam suffering the same fate. It is just insane to think that someone is after me because of business. I take my seat and swivel, skimming through pages of my memory.
Could it be Latoya, a publicist to a celebrity, a client of mine once partnered with? She had a thing for me but soon turned sour when I made it clear I wasn't interested. It got even worse when she got fired because I reported her for being too brazen. She had ranted and raved, but that was a long time ago, right before I joined forces with Donald. But then, hell hath no fury as a woman scorned, and the fury knew no bounds of time.
We’ve locked horns with other public relations companies in the past. Especially celebrity PR companies looking to gain endorsement or that have gained endorsement from our clients. There was the intense lobbying and underhand agreements, but these were particularly scarce in P&J as Donald and I were unreasonably straight, in a way that pissed off many of our peers and workers. Could it be that I truncated someone's chances due to this principle? That's a long list.
I try to rack my brain. I don't think I've met someone who would be so vengeful that they'd kill on this job. But our job was about creating images, real or fake facades, and pretty fonts. I wouldn't trust someone whose job it is to sell mirages to people and make them hold on to it as the truth.
I pick up my phone and place a call to Donald.
"Hey, Don," I say as the dial clicks.
"Pastor Chris, what's going on? Are you around?"
"No, I was at the office, but I already finished for the day."
"I see."
"Look, you might be getting a visit from the police soon."
"Oka— wait, what?"
"Calm down. It's nothing serious. Police came to my office last week and installed spyware in my systems. From that, they discovered some intrusion by a third party. According to them, it's some kind of rival, out for my neck."
"And they think it's me?"
"Of course not, just that you might also be a target. The detective will mostly ask you about persons or companies you clashed with in the past."
"I see. Are the company's systems affected too?"
"Thankfully not. The security systems upgrade we had earlier was a wise and timely decision."
"That's great. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try to crank it up a notch."
"Great. Get yourself ready. I've racked my brain all week; I couldn't think of anyone who'd want to get dirt on me. Detectives could come and check with you."
"What about this wild lady? That one who caused a scene at one of these conferences. Wasn't it there we connected?"
"Yeah, that's Latoya. I don't think that's possible. I mean that's at least 5 years now."
"Wouldn't put it past these women. It's crazy, the things they can do."
Yeah, like turning your brain to mush with the whiff of their perfume.
"Gotta go. I'll talk to you later." He cuts the call immediately.
I sigh and recline on my chair, muttering a quick prayer that this ends soon. I think of Sam and get scared all over again. I’ll lose my mind if anything happens to her. Would it be better to get her to leave the job? Maybe look around for trusted PR companies she could work with and put in a word for her? She’s unlikely to agree. The stubborn girl would probably be more invested in the culprits being found. Deep down, I know I’m just making excuses to ensure she doesn’t leave me.
I have to be truthful to myself and accept it. I’m tied to her already and I’m heading on the path of self-destruction if I don't find a way to ensure I do things the right way.
