* * * * *
As soon as the Twins dropped me off at the office building, they headed over to the Bin where they would either get drunk and start a brawl or brawl and then get drunk. Either way, I felt strange being alone. Almost fearful. It was as if suddenly every shadow now had sinister motive against my very person. Paranoia has kept me alive this long but never before had it come in such crashing waves of anxiety and distrust.
I had been standing in the parking lot for five minutes before realizing I was staring at my office building as if it were some sort of death trap. It was barely 7pm and the offices were still a buzz with clients and employers, milling about inside the structure like ants in a nest. The entire property looked like any business should have, so why was I feeling such trepidation?
I have no idea.
If I had, I would have never gone back inside.
Taking a deep breath, I strode forward and entered the building. Waiting beyond the front doors was a cozy sitting area where the office receptionist waited pleasantly behind her desk. Across from her was a nervous looking young man who was dressed what you’d expect a rent-a-cop to be dressed in.
That would be the young security guard whom I had spoke of previously. He was a joke. The person who owned the building knew it, we who rented out the office spaces knew it and if this youngster wasn’t entirely stupid, he would know it too. If anything he was more a doorman than guard.
“Rest rooms are around the corner,” Youngster said as I approached him, probably out of force of habit
“I’m Arthur Broker,” I replied gruffly, “Last night my office was broken into and vandalized.”
“I heard about that,” He replied nervously, “You see, it…it wasn’t my shift…”
“Just listen!” I growled, cutting him off, “I want to know if anyone has been up to my office since the incident? Has anyone tried to contact me?!”
“J-Just a moment.” Youngster stuttered and hurried over to the receptionist and repeated my question in a hushed tone. He returned a moment later and parroted the information the receptionist had told him. No one had called my office, no one had scheduled an appointment and no one had gone up to the office as per order of the senior security guard.
That sounded ideal but for all I knew some cultist was still lurking in my office, waiting to go all sacrificial lamb on whoever opened the door first. But I still needed to make a sweep of the area for any clues that the culprits might have left behind. After all they had trashed my workplace too quickly to completely cover their tracks, so there was bound to be some sort of evidence.
“Hey buddy,” I said to Youngster, “Do me a favor and go unlock my office? I’ll be up in a minute.”
* * * * *