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She walked into the elevator and left. I quickly ran across the floor and turned the door handle for Zane’s office. It was never locked because it was always guarded, unless you were here at 12.30pm. Most people didn’t know Betty’s schedule like I did so it was safe.
I closed the door behind me quickly and ran over to his desk. It was a neat desk, with very little of anything on it. His drawers were organized and neat too. I turned his monitor on and saw his screensaver flash up with a couple of programs on his desktop but nothing I could see would hold anything important.
There was his mailbox, his internet explorer and an icon for a program with a grim reaper on it and underneath it had the wordscythe.
What the fuck was that? Zane wasn’t a gamer and that’s exactly what it looked like. A game.
Since when did Zane have time to game?
I opened his emails and zoomed through the names to see any that stuck out or any words that might point me in the right direction. He got so many emails a day, it was hard to find one that would show me what I needed to see.
My hands hovered over an email that seemed like a good place to start. I double clicked on that name.
From: Dion Worchester
To: Zane
RE: Blackjack leftovers
Zane,
The shipment is due to arrive from Italy in the next few days. Can you make sure the men at the docks know who it’s for and where it’s to be stored? Lots of nice leftovers inside for you to enjoy. Don’t forget to lethimknow where they came from, yeah?
D.
The title had my heart racing.
Blackjack.
Did Zane know about him? Did he know what he did to me?
My fingers trembled as I clicked on another email.
From: Michal Somers
To: Zane
RE: Grim Reaper
Z,
I’m set for the party of the century, my man. Tell me where and when. I can’t wait to get my hands on the goods. It’s been a while since I had anything this precious. La Sante didn’t exactly deliver if you know what I mean.
See you in a week.
Mick.
I googled the word La Sante and was horrified when I saw it was a prison. Why the hell was he associating with criminals?
I closed the browser down and the emails. Bile was rising in my throat at the thought of him having anything to do with this enterprise of corruption.
My hand hovered over the grim reaper program but before I could click on it, I heard the door handle move. Quickly, I shot down under the desk and prayed he didn’t need to sit down.
Shit, shit, shit.
He was on the phone. I could hear his footsteps come up to the desk but all he did was reach over and grab something off the desk.
“No, you don’t understand, motherfucker. I need this done today.”
