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Taking a bite of the flavorless pasta, I grimaced. "I doubt it."
Our conversation moved from the food to classes to the unexpected package. I could hear the curiosity in Brad's voice as I described it to him. "It's just a plain box, Brad. No logos, nothing. And it's postmarked from San Diego."
"Probably just some random gift from a cosmetic firm. Maybe a sample of some makeup for you to try or some skincare product they want you to review," Brad suggested casually. The idea made sense. After all, I did have a small following on my beauty blog.
We shared a laugh, and I felt a bit of my curiosity ebbing away. "Yeah, you're probably right. I'll open it when I get back to my dorm."
As we continued our conversation, Brad's excitement about the media interviews related to the Rosedale case became evident. He told me about the news crews and reporters that had descended on Rosedale Tech's office, all eager for a piece of the story. "You should see it, Court. It's like a media circus out here!"
I could hear the excitement in his voice, and the nostalgia hit me hard. I missed being part of the action, part of the team. But I was here now and had to make the best of it.
"I wish I could see it, Brad," I confessed. "It sounds like you guys are doing great work on trying to get to the bottom of the case."
"Miss you, Court!"
"I miss you too, Brad."
Soon after our call ended, I stepped outside, the cool evening air whipped around me. Pulling up the collar of my coat, I headed back to the dorm.
After a day filled with lectures, assignments, and an enigma, the setting sun was casting long shadows over the campus. Jenna was already home, her fingers flying over her laptop keyboard as she worked on an essay.
"Hey, Court," she greeted without looking up, "How was your day?"
"Pretty good," I replied, "And yours?"
"The usual," she shrugged, "You know, studying, more studying, and I had lunch with Dylan." She trailed off, giggling. "He's so funny, Courtney," she went on, her voice filled with laughter. "He tried to flirt with the cafeteria lady today to score some extra fries. It was a hilarious disaster."
I laughed along with her. The image of a desperate Dylan making a fool of himself made me grin. Dylan's antics were a constant source of amusement, adding humor to our chats.
Plopping down on my bed, I saw the box was still there, just as I left it this morning. Picking it up, I turned it around in my hands.
"Is that the package you were talking about?" Jenna asked, finally looking up from her work.
"Yep," I replied, a grin spreading across my face. My fingers found the edge of the tape and began to peel it back. "Ready to see what's inside?"
Jenna's eyes lit up, and with a few swift keystrokes, she saved her work and shut her laptop. She joined me on the bed, her excitement matching mine. The anticipation hung heavy in the air as I finally opened the box.
A smaller, unmarked envelope was inside, nestled amongst crumpled packaging. The intrigue of it all made me giggle as Jenna watched, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"What do you think it is?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"I have no idea, maybe makeup or something…." I replied honestly. My fingers plucked out the envelope, and I tore it open. Inside were several photographs and a note.
I pulled them out, my breath hitching as I looked at the first one. It was a picture of a man taken from a distance. He was standing outside City Deli, located not far from the Rosedale office. His back was to the camera. The next few photographs were similar; the man was always present and in the same place. The last photograph was different, though. He was holding a can of ginger lemon Olipop, turned slightly, giving a partial view of his face.
Suddenly, a jolt of recognition seized me, hitting me as intensely as a lightning bolt. My heart pounded fiercely, struggling to keep pace with the whirlwind of thoughts. I gasped, the photographs slipping from my grasp like melting ice. I felt the color drain from my face, replaced by a pallor that echoed my fear and confusion.
"Courtney?" Jenna's voice trembled with concern, "You look like you've seen a ghost. Who is this guy?"
Summoning a ragged breath, I barely managed to whisper the words that chilled the room, "Oh, God. He... He has to be linked to the Rosedale case!"
ChapterFour
Brad
It wasa rare gloomy day in San Diego, which is usually a sunny city. From the Rosedale headquarters, we watched sheets of rain hit the tall glass building, making it hard to see the city outside. It was a stark contrast to the sleek modern architecture of our meeting space, a room equipped with state-of-the-art technology and sweeping views of the city.
We were gathered outside the conference room, waiting. Daniel, Ryder, Guy, Mitch, and I stood in a loose cluster, exchanging low murmurs of conversation as the tension in the air thrummed like a plucked guitar string. Our collective gaze was fixed on the room's closed door, the physical barrier separating us from the man working within.
