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Instead of catching up on current paperwork, Thomas examined the footage over and over, sure he would find something which would explain the misplaced folders.
Nothing. Simply nothing.
Thomas picked up the pile, leaned back in his chair, and casually looked through them to see if their contents would provide a hint. The folders contained the membership lists and the incorporation papers, and the property assessments for the pride.
Members, incorporation, property lines. Like someone had an interest in the backbone of the pride’s formation.
These folders were usually in their secure location, as they were valuable to the pride’s existence but not required to be looked at every day.
I had wanted to scan through these. To make any updates regarding who belongs and who doesn’t since I dealt with the rats when I took over. And as for the formation and property lines, nothing has changed.
Thomas didn’t voice it out loud, but his inner shifter sense knew there must be a mole sniffing around the pride. But the spy screwed up. And instead of putting the folders back in the inbox, they accidentally put them on his desk as if they had been in a hurry. But for what purpose, he couldn’t ascertain.
Thomas rocked back and forth in his chair.
No glaring CCTV footage.
No odd people in his office.
Yet the documentary skeleton of the pride lay there right before him, and he hadn’t a clue why.
I’m the only one with signing authority to change any main aspect of the pride. To have these papers, what advantage would that hold for another?
The wordtakeoverrang in his ears, but he couldn’t fathom how these pages would assist in a leadership coup d’état. But Thomas knew he had made a considerable number of enemies during the recent purge.
He should have predicted that a mole would be placed inside his office by his enemies. He even understood why they had done it. That was why he had placed the cameras inside his office.
“Geez, am I being paranoid here? All this to do over a pile of misplaced folders.”
As Thomas continued to leaf through them, nothing was out of place. No missing pages, no pages turned the wrong way. Nothing hinted at the work of snooping spies.
Without a doubt, the purge Thomas undertook was swift and severe. The pride had been overrun by opportunists bent on destroying the pride’s primary function as a haven for lion shifters who needed a safe place to gather and be themselves.
It was never meant as a profitable concern. More so, it was a space where the Leone pride could survive and thrive.
Thomas’s mother was a dear heart. But it was her kindness and generosity which allowed shifters with darker hearts to exploit her forgiving ways. Manipulation, power plays, and finally, bullying throughout the pride took the once vibrant gathering and made it into a fearful place.
Members were afraid to attend meetings. Some were intimidated, or worse, when their dues were up. The charitable, loving refuge became an autocracy bent on power and money and nothing else.
Thomas continued to rock in his chair and hash over the scenario with whatever wolverine gods were out there in the ether who would listen.
Of course, he would make enemies after his mother’s passing and taking over the helm. How could he not? The place needed a clean sweep. His dear mother, in her later, more frail years, couldn’t cope. Yet, while she was alive, he would not overstep his bounds. Afterward, well, if not him, who? He knew if there was to be a purge, it had to come from him.
It all made logical sense to Thomas … yet he was still left with a disrupted desk.
Thomas knew every inch of his office, where things were and where they were not. And as of yesterday, all was well. Today, his inbox was empty, the same one which had been piled high with folders that now lay on his desk. He didn’t imagine this. He wasn’t losing his mind. Somebody was fingering through his things.
Was my cleaning too swift? Did I ruffle too much fur too fast in the aggressive act?
No answers to his questions came, of course. Thomas sighed. For a moment, he wondered, if he shifted, would his heightened sense of smell as a lion help to uncover the culprit?
Right. And who would you sniff out that the CCTV didn’t catch? Unless lion shifters could become invisible these days, he already had his answer. Nobody was in his office who didn’t have authority. Who he didn’t trust. Not today, not yesterday, not for the entire time those folders were in his inbox. He’d seen it with his own eyes.
Thomas rose from his chair and did a slow walk around his office, looking at the visual angles in the room, at his desk, at its contents.
Everything is in place but those damn files. I’m not imagining this. But who moved them? And what were they seeking? Nothing about the Leone pride can be changed without my say-so.
From the mini fridge, he selected sparkling water and plunked down on the sofa to stare at his desk and those file folders. After a moment, there was a soft knock on his door. Thomas leaned forward and looked to the entrance. The open door hid where he was sitting.
