Boston's Man-Eater

LVI

"Yes, Marisol."

"And fetch me my coat whilst you're at it," she ordered, her clacking heels moving towards the desk.

Surely it was her. I saw her lean over to open one of the drawers.

"Doris! Who was in here?"

Heavy perspiration rolled down the side of my face, matting my wild hair to my skin.

"Nobody," Doris squeezed.

"I assure you that somebody has been in here. Get Gerald here this instant!"

"Yes madam," she ran out of the room.

Gripping the phone tightly, I held my breath until I was sure to pass out from the lack of oxygen.

"Yes, Marisol?" Gerald said.

"Somebody went through my drawers."

"I did not see anyone. They know the consequences of such an action.

"These folders are in the wrong order. Did you check the surveillance?"

"Yes...and no."

"No?" She seethed dangerously, and I quickly swallowed.

"It was my mistake not to supervise."

"If you don't get who has disobeyed my warning after making it very clear, you're going to suffer in their place. Am I understood!" She barked, and I subtly flinched.

"But of course. Couldn't it have been a mishap with one of the cleaning staff?" He added, and a short silence prevailed.

"Call Gladys," she ordered icily, and he stepped out of the room.

What was I thinking?

"Yes, Miss Sanchez?" Gladys timidly answered.

"What is the chronological order of the folders in the last drawer to the right?"

"Uh...onyx, black olive and jet."

"So why is it black olive, jet then onyx?" She clipped.

"I've never made such a mistake."

"I must be insane then," she retorted.

"Gerald, see to it. Now."

"Yes, Marisol."

When the padded footsteps began to disperse, I exhaled loudly.

But as soon as my victory began, so did my worst horror.

The doors swung open, and my lips parted as did Doris'.

She gasped audibly, and a set of footsteps paused outside the door.

"What is it?" Marisol asked as I stared at the woman with pleading eyes, shaking my head frantically.

"Nothing."

"Well, there seems to be something," she insisted, walking towards our direction as Doris closed the doors.

"I just remembered that I had cookies in the oven. They're probably burning now."

"You must not waste food, Doris."

"Forgive me, madam. I will see to it right now."

"Very well."

Through the gaps of the doors, I could see Doris heading out, with Marisol standing a few feet away from me.

She seemed to be staring right at me, but I dared not to move even the slightest bit. She had the red dress on, the one that perfectly matched the description.