Page 66 of Scandal


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“My daddy is coming.”

“Good girl.” I wondered if I called my father if he could tell me what to do, provide comfort. I almost laughed, trying so hard to control my emotions. “That’s good, Bailey. I appreciate you calling me.”

Bailey continued to sob, and I closed my eyes.

“I gotta run, girl. Go home and be with your family.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bailey ended the call, and I squeezed my phone, taking gasping breaths. I was certain I was having a panic attack. No, if I did then Christine and her power-hungry friends would win. I couldn’t allow that to happen. After taking several additional deep breaths, I managed to get to my feet, glancing out my windows and doors to ensure I was still alone.

After tossing my phone on the desk, I headed for Christine’s dark office. I was determined to follow this through even as another series of tingles shot down the back of my legs. I moved toward her window, peering onto the still busy street below. We weren’t on a main road, but the one our office buildingfronted was used as a method of getting to and from several prominent neighborhoods. I saw nothing suspicious outside, no one standing on the sidewalk across the street.

Easing into her chair, I realized I didn’t have a bird’s-eye view of the reception area like I did in my office. I felt even more of a need to hurry. I also didn’t want a member of the custodial staff to find me in here. At least the office was quiet, and I’d be able to hear the sound of the door opening and closing if someone came in. Of that I was confident. I took a deep breath, glancing at her desk. There were a few files on top that I weeded through hoping to get lucky.

Of course not. She’d dropped her case load, but she still had a few nonessential cases she was working on, which were highlighted in the files near her computer keyboard. Nothing else was lying out in plain sight. Christine was far too careful for that. I tried her desk drawers, finding mostly extra pads and other office supplies. When I was certain I heard something coming from the outer office, I almost had a panic attack. I fumbled to turn off the light, nearly knocking over the lamp.

I held my breath, my imaginative mind going nuts thinking the police would be storming into her office at any moment. Of course that didn’t happen. After hearing the vents click in the ceiling, I rolled my eyes. I simply wasn’t used to it being this quiet in the office. I switched the light on again, immediately heading for her credenza, forced to crouch onto my knees.

The nailfile had been good in thought, but I almost bent the tip inside the lock. My hands were shaking, sweat rolling down the back of my neck. It wasn’t perspiration like a lady would have. No, I was sweating buckets like a common criminal should be. I almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the thoughts runningthrough my mind. It was obvious I could never be a decent criminal.

When I felt the lock give, I almost squealed with joy. Then I opened the top drawer, searching through the dozens of files. Mostly, it was old cases, some of which dated back far enough they weren’t stored on the computer. Many of which I recognized. This wasn’t about going down memory lane. I was here for a single purpose. Getting dirt on Christine.

The first drawer held nothing of any value. When I opened the second, I realized there weren’t as many files nestled inside. I flipped through them quickly, finally noticing a file with Damien’s name typed on a label. I grabbed it, not bothering to take the time to look through it. When I was just about to close the drawer, I almost smashed my fingers. The moment I jerked my hand free, something popped out of the drawer onto the floor.

It was another jump drive. It had been taped to the inside of the cabinet drawer. I held it into the light, shaking my head. It was obvious she was hiding something of importance. Now I was eager and sick to my stomach. I closed the drawer and tried to lock it, realizing somehow, I’d jammed the lock. Shit. Shit. Shit. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

Fisting the jump drive in my hand, my only defense at this point was plausible deniability. Fuck. I shoved the drive into the pocket of my jacket, yanking the file into my other hand then moving toward the desk.

Suddenly, the rest of the lights in the office suite went off and I froze for a few seconds. The custodial staff were early. Wait a minute. They hadn’t come into Christine’s office to empty thetrash. Another moment of near panic settled in. Loose ends were being clipped. I was certain of it.

And if the murderer had his way, I was next.

Exhaling, I flipped off the desk lamp, silently heading to Christine’s partially open door and standing behind it. The emergency exit light was still lit over the double door entrance, and there were various lights from computers left on in three of four cubicles, but given the slip of a moon, that was it. I could see the door to my office. I had to get my purse.

After that, I’d get the hell out of here. I was far too jumpy, terror keeping me close to the edge. My instinct was screaming that I was in significant trouble. I listened for any additional sounds for a full two minutes before venturing out. When I did, I took careful steps, staying along the walls leading from her office. It was a direct shot to my office from here. Then I could head to the elevator.

I made it to my office, shaking like a leaf. As I snagged my purse, I knocked over my pen holder, the sound amplified given the near silence in the suite. Fuck. I was forced to slap my hand across my mouth to keep from making a sound, pushing myself to leave my office. I couldn’t see in front of me, the darkness and shadows oppressive. Thank God for the light over the doors.

When I was only a few feet away, I heard another sound and glanced over my shoulder. Seeing one of the empty cubicle chairs rolling into the corridor was like living in a B-rated horror movie. I was trembling so badly, I had to will my legs to move. But as a wave of anger mixed with the terror skittered inside, something amazing happened. Adrenaline roared through me for a second time, kicking my butt into gear.

I lunged toward the door, throwing it open and racing down the hallway toward the set of elevators. I slapped my hand on the down button and when the doors didn’t pop open right away, I didn’t hesitate to bolt toward the stairwell, throwing open the door with such force it slammed against the door stopper.

Fuck. I tried to run down the stairs, but my heels prevented me from moving but so quickly. Still, I made damn good time, twisting around the railings, using my firm grip to build momentum. I was on the third-floor landing when I heard the door open and slam shut from the top floor. I stopped long enough to listen for footsteps. There was nothing. No noise. No sound of any kind. Except for my rapidly beating heart. What was the fucker doing?

Suddenly, the silence was broken by a horrible, dark laugh.

That’s when I flew down the remainder of the stairs, almost breaking my neck in the process. When I made it to the lobby, I didn’t see Zephyr anywhere and fisted my mouth to keep from sobbing. I made a beeline for the exterior door, making it out into the humid air in a matter of seconds.

Gasping for air, I spun in a complete circle, unable to see where my protector had parked. Then I noticed the SUV on the far end of the parking lot. Was the light on inside the cab? It didn’t matter. I headed toward it, certain the sound of footsteps was directly behind me. No. No. No.

The closer I got to the vehicle, the more unnerving it became. When I was within a few feet, I stopped short. The door to the driver’s seat was open. What the hell? Now I glanced over my shoulder, thankfully seeing nothing. As I walked closer, I started to shake. “Zephyr?” Oh, God. By the time I reached the open door, it was clear to see the man was dead. Oh, dear God.

No. No!

A sob rushed into my throat, my mind spinning.

Backing away, I almost choked but the resolve inside of me screamed I had to get the hell out of here. I shoved my hand into my pocketbook, thanking God that I managed to grab the keys right away. As I raced toward my car, I only prayed the fucker didn’t know what I was driving.

By the time I managed to get to it, hitting the unlock button on the key fob, I was certain I heard footsteps.

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