Page 31 of Nothing Hiding

That sculpture always brought him a sense of peace—even now when his legs and lungs were seemingly in different universes and not communicating with each other at all.

But even that brief peace was shattered when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He slowed to a standstill, panting and sweating, and fished it out of his pocket, hoping it was just a spam call or his sister. But the name that flashed on the screen made his heart thud with anxiety.

How could he possibly relax when it was his domineering boss on the other end?

He hesitated before answering but knew he couldn't ignore the call. Not with a massive shipment of top-quality furniture about to hit England's shores any day now. Most of it already had top end buyers who were waiting for their delivery. A limited number of other items were destined for their exclusive, West End store.

"Good morning," he said, trying to catch his breath.

"Hammer," his boss barked, "listen, there's been a fluctuation in the exchange rate, and it's going to affect our import costs."

Chad's heart sank. He had been dreading the possibility of something going wrong with the shipment, but he had hoped against hope that everything would proceed smoothly. The import costs were already high, and any fluctuations in the exchange rate would only exacerbate the problem.

"Don't worry, Mr. Reynolds. I'll get on it right away," he said, even as he wondered if the company could possibly have accounted for every single possible scenario.

The options crowded his mind. Chief among them was to check what that actual fluctuation was and the reason for it. This could be solvable.

There was a bench ahead. With his legs aching, and sweat trickling down his chest and head, he perched on the end of it. A beautiful woman with rich, brown hair and a high-necked running shirt was at the other end, staring out over the park. A few yards beyond, in the cover of the trees, a man with binoculars had his back turned, watching the birds in the trees.

"Mind if I sit here?" he mumbled to the woman, his natural subservience in these situations overriding his innate awareness that this was a public bench, and he could sit on it however the hell he wanted. It was for the public, a bench, and he needed to stop being so damned socially anxious. It was holding him back!

She didn't answer or move, and tuning her out, Chad got onto his phone to explore the reasons for his boss's call.

As he dug deeper into the exchange rates, he nodded, feeling better about things. The fluctuations were not significant, and he knew this would only make a tiny impact that might even correct itself in the next hour.

Was that the only problem? Or was there something else he should be picking up but wasn't? Before jumping to conclusions, he needed to check himself. His expertise and broad thinking were why he held the position at this company and earned the salary which was exceptionally high for a graduate in his mid-twenties, and why he lived in a beautiful apartment near the park.

Also, it was probably why he was overweight and had some niggling health issues and no girlfriend or social life.

As he dug into the financial data, without finding anything amiss, his mind started to wander. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something was odd about the woman sitting next to him. It was as if she was too still, too quiet. It set his nerves on edge. He tried to focus on his work, but it was difficult with the woman's presence beckoning him.

He tried to shut it out. Tried to focus on the minor details that could have triggered his very detail-oriented boss.

He shook his head. Having considered every angle, he didn't think that the fluctuations were a problem, and it was more than likely that his boss was simply experiencing some anxiety before this big shipment was due to land. Having examined every possible angle, he didn't see any reason for concern.

So, no problems.

He glanced at the woman, finally allowing her into his world.

She was staring ahead, and now, he was seeing something strange in her unblinking demeanor, in the frozen expression on her face, that thick, gray eyeshadow around her staring eyes, the immobility of her pose.

He'd thought her to be a jogger because that was how she was dressed, in pink and blue lycra, bright yellow trainers, a headband around her shiny hair. But joggers jogged. They didn't sit on a bench, staring into the distance.

Chad couldn't help but be drawn in by her unsettling stillness. He coughed politely and shifted slightly on the bench, hoping to catch her attention.

"Are you okay?" he finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Yes, he knew he was shy when it came to women, but for some reason, he had a nagging sense of dread in his mind as he stared at her.

The woman didn't react.

Was she in shock? Had something terrible happened to her? He glanced around the park, searching for any signs of danger or distress, but everything around them seemed normal. The birder was behind a tree now, almost invisible.

He turned back to the woman and reached out a hand, intending to shake her shoulder.

But as his hand touched her shoulder, Chad gasped, recoiling backward in shock. The woman's skin was ice-cold, and the movement sent her slowly tilting sideways.

Only then did he see the fine wire noose that had been holding her body in place. Loosened, it allowed her to tip over, and he jumped to his feet in horror.

"Help!" he yelled. "Help!"

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