IX
Half and hour later, they were on their way. Equipped with her purse and her folder, she and Woody headed to the building that would house her future.
She walked confidently into the appropriate office, punctually, and with an enormous smile on her face. She introduced herself and took a seat amidst the professionals. They asked her, "What experience have you acquired in the field?" and, "what drove you to accept our proposal?" She answered all of their questions honestly, saving the best for last, the images she had brought from home. Opening the folder, she said, "This is only a small sample of what I can do."
The group was very impressed. They seemed to salivate intensely with every word she spoke, as if she were a meal they wanted to eat or a spell weaver, wrapping their minds around her little finger. They praised her with every image she showed them. They even complemented her on the way she gracefully held her pen. They told her that she was their newest employee, to begin on the sixth of the following month.
She shook hands with each of her new bosses, promised to give them one hundred and ten percent and proudly prepared to leave the office when one of the men, a grey haired, happy looking fellow with suspicious eyes said, "Aren't you the dead girl that all of Boston has been talking about?"
Emma took a sharp intake of breath and felt her face flush. She suddenly began to tremble and fumbled with her examples as she filed them back into the folder. "Well…" she almost tried her recovery by making up a completely different story, and was in the midst of replacing the smile upon her face with a look of interested curiosity when he continued.
"Our lead accountant informed me that the credit used to book your suite at The Club Quarters was refunded to the account on the night that the girl was found alive. The manager said that on your authority, the entire amount refunded. He mentioned something about the security levels?"
"Oh yes, well… I have a cousin who lives in Boston and he doesn't mind me staying with him for the short time I am here as he never gets to see me and we were quite close while we were growing up. I felt horrible for not having stayed in the room and I got him to refund the entire amount because I hadn't stayed even one day."
"I see," the man said, unsure of whether to believe her.
"Well, thank you very much for your time. I shall see you all on the sixth of next month," she turned and left the office.
At the elevator doors, she released the air she had been withholding, 'That was a damn close call…" Alone, she took the glass elevator to the main floor. She began trembling putting a hand on the rail to stop her from collapsing. "I seriously need to get out of Boston." Wiping her brow, recovering a professional appeal, Emma looked out of the glass elevator to the people on the main floor. She smiled, admiring all of the bustling people, a mail carrier delivering that day's news, office workers milling around on their way back to their desks, their stomachs full from a hearty lunch. A mousy haired, blue eyed, scar faced man staring directly at her.
She saw Henry Mercer, his bright blue eyes crinkled into a glare, staring, directly at her as she descended to his level. She stared back, unable to look away. Her mouth slightly ajar in shock and fear, her palms began to sweat and shake as she fumbled around her purse for her cell phone. She turned the power on while keeping her eyes on him. However, when she looked away to dial Woody's cellular number, he had disappeared.
"Detective Hoyt."
Her voice trembling, she blurted, "Woody, he's here. He's in the lobby."
AN: exciting ne? And silly me, stopping in the middle of an exciting part…