Page 4 of Girl, Empty
Michael spent his life weeding out dishonest people, and he wasn’t about to become a hypocrite now.‘I forgot what tomorrow is.’
Sarah’s sigh was audible even down the phone line.‘Emma’s swimming competition.She wants you there.She’s starting to forget what you look like.’
‘I thought she had an infection.’
‘You really think that’s gonna stop her?’
Michael decided without hesitation that he needed to be at this swimming competition.He was sure Emma had only just started kindergarten a few months ago, but somehow time had accelerated and now she was nearly ten.They said time sped up the older you got, and Michael had foolishly decided to ignore that pearl of wisdom.
‘I’ll be there,’ he said.
‘Do you promise?’
‘Yeah.What time?’
‘Same time as the last five times I told you.Six o’ clock.’
‘Got it.I’m just finishing something up.’
‘As always.Why don’t you just come home?Whatever you’re working on can wait.’
The numbers stared back at Michael.His weekly report was due in nine hours, and he didn’t have much new from last week.‘I can’t.Not tonight.’
‘Okay.See you… whenever.’
Sarah hung up before Michael could at least justify these late nights.Whywashe working so damn much?It wasn’t like he got paid by the hour, but he did get bonuses for every wannabe-Bernie Madoff he dragged out of the woodwork.The bigger the fish, the bigger the conviction, the bigger the payout.
Michael lost himself in Henderson's maze of financial deceit.Henderson had moved money in the way that the best financial fraudsters did; amounts small enough to avoid automatic flagging but large enough to matter.Death by a thousand cuts, except Henderson had been the one holding the knife.
Then the coffee machine on the other side of the room bubbled to life.
Odd.The machine was programmed to brew every two hours at his request.It surely hadn’t been that long since his last one?Then again, time moved differently in the wee hours.
Michael stood to grab a cup – might as well benefit from the robot barista – when the lights stuttered.
Once.Twice.
Then they died completely before flickering back to life at half strength, dousing the room a honey color.
‘The hell?’
Power cut?No.This place had enough backup power to last a nuclear winter.Power fluctuations didn't happen here.The new director’s paranoia covered acts of God.
He moved toward the door.Better to check with security.
‘What the…?’
The door wouldn’t budge.Michael pulled harder.
Nothing.
The magnetic lock should have disengaged the moment he touched the handle from inside.Fire code.Basic safety.Beside it, the biometric scanner glowed its usual blue, but when he pressed his hand against it, nothing happened.
‘Come on.’He tried again.His thumb left a damp print on the glass.The scanner remained comatose.‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’
Michael's pulse hammered against his collar.He locked himself in the office willingly, so why now was he so panicked?The amber light made everything look diseased.His mahogany desk appeared to be rotting from within, and the conference room suddenly reminded him of a slab in a mortuary.Meanwhile, the coffee machine continued its gurgling in the corner.
He pressed both palms against the door and shoved.The reinforced steel didn't even vibrate.He might as well have been pushing against a mountain.
