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Tamara
Once I finish putting the papers and receipts away for the third time, I decide to take a walk to the video center and go over some footage. On the way, I keep thinking about Charlotte’s threats and demands. She’s almost like a crazy person that has a fix on something. I snicker at the fact that all she spews out of her mouth is evil and malicious.
How can anybody want to be with her?
Shaking my head, I enter the room. Sitting down at the controls, I begin checking the camera's recordings. After about a half hour, I notice a person on one of the cameras, number five. I stop it and zoom in, looking at the face. The appearance of this person is very familiar.
I print out this pic, with the date and time stamp, and leave the center. I get back to my office and pull out the bank statements, leafing through them to find something. Something that would help put this together.
And there it is. Right there under my nose. While looking through the books again, I see a signature match from the back of one check. Calling the commissioner, I anxiously wait for him to get on the line. “Tamara. Good to hear from you,” he chirps into the line.
“I’m calling because I think I found a link,” I say impatiently.
“Oh?” his voice took on a hint of seriousness. “Tell me.”
“This morning when I came into work, Charlotte was sitting at my desk, tossing things from the drawers,” I tell him quietly.
“It turned into an altercation that began badly but ended worse. She demanded the hard copies of the company’s books, saying she wanted her personal accountant to go over them to see if I made any mistakes,” I take a quick break.
“You? Mistakes? Those two words don’t belong in the same sentence,” he quips. “Anything else?”
“A couple more things and I’ll try to make it concise. I wouldn’t give her the books, but told her there’s an online version. Charlotte lost it then and started throwing things at me, yelling and calling me names and then,” I take a deep breath blowing it out slowly. “She began threatening me…”
He cuts me off, “She threatened you? How exactly?”
“She told me to get the books or I’d never see the light of another day. A co-worker came in and asked what’s happening, saying he could hear the entire thing outside,” I give a pause in case he’s writing any of this down. “She tried to stab me with a pencil, but I dodged it.”
“She turns to me pointing a finger and says that she’ll be back, demanding I have the books ready. Then she stomps out of my office and yells at the boss,” I say as I fight some anxiety back.
“Who does she think she is, the Terminator?” he jokes and then chuckles at that. “Yeah, Charlotte has always been on the left side of crazy.”
“Later, I decided to check some footage and found an image that I recognized. I cross checked some bank statements and signatures, coming up with a match,” I let out a sigh at the end of the story.
“Can you send me copies of everything that you discovered?” he asks me with sincerity in high pitch. “I’ll look into this and get back to you.”
“Thanks,” I say with relief.
“Tamara, don’t tell anyone else about what you found or your conversation with me,” he says before he hangs up.
“Got it,” I hang up the phone, sending him the incriminating information. Once that’s done I put everything away into my safe place and make some coffee. Most everyone has left for the day except a field guy or two, so I sit and drink my coffee, relaxing for just a moment.
A couple of field men come in to check their time card. “Hey, guys?”
“Yeah?” says Dan.
I poke my head out the door and ask them, “Is anyone else out there? I don’t want to lock up if there is.”
“I didn’t see any others,” Dan replies as the other dude shakes his head.
“Thanks. See you tomorrow,” I wave to them and they wave back.
I sit down, deciding to finish my coffee in peace. As I bring the rim to my lips, the peace breaks by the ring of the phone.
Answering the phone, at first I hear static, so I hang it up and sit back again. It rings again, and this time it’s a voice that I don’t recognize.
“You need to come to the field. Hurry. One of the men is hurt pretty badly.” Click.
Strange. Dan said there wasn’t anyone out therethat he could see.I shut down the computer and grab a set of keys. Looking from the door, I don’t see anything that looks suspicious.
Something gnaws at the back of my brain. Something dark and terrible. I push the door open and step outside. This didn’t feel so ominous last week, when I was playing a security cop. I take each step carefully and hesitantly, looking around as I edge toward the field.
Still not close enough, I spin to see if there’s anyone behind me. My pulse begins to heighten as the sun goes down over the oilfield. I step quietly over the pebbly lot, making sure to not lose my footing.
Once I’m in the rigs looking around for this hurt oilman, I feel every nerve stand at attention. Silently circling one rig after another, I find no evidence of any person, man or otherwise, hurt on the field. I make one more round just to be certain I didn’t miss a downed person.
Since I find no one, and in spite of my anxiety, I take a look over the back field watching the last of the sun set beyond the horizon. I hear the crunch of the pebbles behind me and before I could turn around, I feel something very hard slam down on the back of my head.
Then everything goes black.
