Secrets of the Boss

I bask in the stillness of the empty library. These stolen moments alone with the books make me forget that most of my day will be spent under a pile of barcodes. I don’t linger too long in the stacks as my coworkers will arrive soon and morning greetings tend to distract me from my routine of opening all the programs I need on my computer and deleting all the junk mail that fills my inbox the second I step away from my desk. I flip the switch to send light flooding over the office and make my way to my desk. As I enter my cubicle, a flashing red light greets me.

“Come on. I just got here.” I mumble as I hit the message button on my phone and go through the motions of retrieving my voicemail.

“Theresa, I need your help with something. Meet me at the batting cages on First Avenue.” My boss’s voice fills my cubicle.

“This message was left at 5:55am.” The stilted robotic voice informs me before listing my options.

I push a button to save the message for later, since I can’t imagine what library business would require a visit to the batting cages. I pull my coat back over my shoulders, grabbing my bag. I offer one lingering backward glance to the neatly arranged piles on my desk and start toward the door.

“Theresa, where are you going?” My friend and coworker Cara asks as I pass her in the hallway.

“Special assignment from the boss.” I offer with a grin.

She shakes her head. “Those are never good. Headed to the dungeon to box up books that are too trashy even for this place?”

“Don’t know yet.” I say.

“That means it’s even worse. Sorry about that, but you know…”

“Better me than you.” I finish her sentence.

“You know it. Have fun anyway.” She pats me on the shoulder and steps into the staff lounge.

I make my way back through the book labyrinth and into the light of day. My eyelids blink as the sunlight strikes my eyes. Shaking my head, I find my car and open the door. With a regretful look at the 8:21 blinking on the display of the parking meter, I turn the key and slowly back out of the spot.

“He better reimburse me for parking since I probably won’t even find a spot when I get back.” I mutter.

*

As I slow enough to turn into the narrow parking lot for the batting cages, the driver behind me leans on his horn. Despite my closed windows and blaring radio, I hear him scream obscenities on his way past. I don’t have time to respond as I slam on my brakes to avoid hitting a large black van that sits in the middle of the lot.

“What in the world?”

As I edge into the nearest spot, I notice blinking red and blue lights closer to the row of cages. My heart starts to hammer. My mouth grows dry. I turn off the car on autopilot and watch the lights swirl and blink before me. Despite my fears, I open the door and step out of the car. Slow footsteps carry me toward the van with “coroner” etched across the back in large, white letters.

“Hold up there, honey.” A deep voice brings my head up and to the left.

A police officer towers over me, looking down at me with questioning eyes. He raises one of his muscular hands to stop me from taking another step.

I freeze to offer a timid smile and a squeaky, “Yes, officer?”

“This is a crime scene. You can’t come in here.”

“Oh?”

“You didn’t see the lights?”

“I did, but…”

His right hand slowly seeks out the butt of his pistol as he waits for me to finish.

“…I’m supposed to meet my boss here.”

“Does he know that the batting cages aren’t open this early?”

“I don’t know.” I feel my cheeks begin to flush.

His eyes narrow as he contemplates this. “How about you describe your boss to me.”

“Umm…well…he has short dark hair…”

“…that’s starting to thin?”

“Um…yes…and…”

“He’s a little shy of six foot tall?”

“Uh….yes…” My voice fades away as a heavy weight seems to fall upon my mind, crushing out all 

sensible thought.

“Ma’am?” I see those meaty hands coming toward me.

As the world spins into blackness, I feel strong hands snatch me from midair and gently lower me to the ground. Not much time passes before the clouds smothering my mind begin to dissipate.

“So she says she knows the victim?” A higher, grittier voice breaks through to my garbled mind.

“Sounds like it, sir.”

“Looks like she’s coming to.” Slender fingers wave in front of my face before gently striking my cheek. 

“You awake.”

I mumble something even I don’t understand as he gently rubs my hands.

“Help me sit her up.”

Two sets of hands push me into a sitting position. I open my eyes, feeling the pull on my neck as my head slumps to my right shoulder. Bleary eyes take in the new officer’s pinched face. He smiles reassuringly.

“That’s right. Wake up. We need to ask you a few questions and then we’ll take you to the hospital to get checked out. Okay?”

I push my head up with my shoulder and nod slowly as my stomach pitches slightly.

“Can you stand up?”

“I don’t know?”

With their help, I manage to regain my feet, but my knees feel like melted butter. I cling to the arms supporting me, willing my strength to return.

“We know this may be hard for you, but I was hoping you could take a quick peek at the face of our victim and let us know if he is your boss. Can you do that?” The older officer watches my face intently.

“I think so.”

They turn me gently to face a stretcher with a body in a plastic bag. The zipper has been pulled down enough to show a familiar face. Someone pulled his eyelids down to cover dark brown eyes, but the pallid face me belongs to my boss. My stomach lurches again. As I turn away from the body and bend slightly, they step away from me, releasing my arms. I manage to stay upright but the contents of my stomach come out in a vile flood between my feet. My stomach continues to lurch until nothing remains inside to be forced free.

A lightly perfumed handkerchief appears before my eyes as I dry heave one last time. “I’m so sorry about that, ma’am. Is that him?”

I nod as I take the handkerchief and gently wipe my mouth.

“And what was your boss’s name, ma’am?” The first officer’s gruff voice asks with as much sympathy as it can offer.

“Larry Chase.”

“Does he have family?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay.” The older officer pats my arm gently, then offers me his. “Come with me. I’ll give you a ride to the hospital.”

As I weakly lean into his arm, I hear the other officer ask. “So what are we looking at?”

“He’s been dead since sometime last night.” The coroner responds as she zips up the body bag. “I’ll give you more information when I have a chance to properly examine the body.”

Continue here!

Looks like this story gets a continuation to next week. Feel free to offer comments, input, criticism, praise, etc. Where? Right there:

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