20. Leila
20
LEILA
Phillip appears in the open doorway, his face a mask of fury. But it’s Edgar that has the breath stalling in my lungs.
He has a small caliber gun trained on Phillip, his own expression just as pissed off. My boss tilts his head at me, indicating for me to flee. Unfortunately, Edgar spots me before I can move a muscle.
“Well, well, if it isn’t little Ms. Sunshine. You’re just in time to join the party.” There’s something off about his words, but my brain’s too busy scrambling to figure a way out of this situation for me to put my finger on what.
He pushes Phillip toward me. “Get over there,” he says, gesturing in my direction with the nasty looking weapon in his hand. “You should have just stayed out of my business. I would have been gone soon. But no, you had to stick your nose in where it wasn’t wanted, didn’t you?”
Before Phillip can reply, he continues. “That’s exactly why I arranged to have the cruise ship hijacked. You were supposed to die, but oh no – Leila’s erstwhile ex had to ride to the rescue before those idiots could get the job done.
“I suffered through three days with you and your insufferable team for an alibi, but mostly to be on hand to watch you die. I was robbed of even that small joy.”
“But why?” I can’t help but blurt out, shocked to my core at the venom in Edgar’s voice.
“Because Phillip couldn’t leave well enough alone that’s why. He had to keep digging into StanCorp’s financials”
A heavy silence hangs over the room as Phillip and I digest this new information.
“Edgar, give this up. Surely you can’t think you can get away with shooting me or Leila. You’ll never make it out of the building,” Phillip finally says, his voice quiet but his anger clear.
“Oh, yes? And who exactly would stop me? Now move,” he replies.
I’m still rooted to the spot, fear a sour taste in my mouth.
Hot on the heels of the hijacking we’ve just recently experienced, I’m finding it hard to process all this violence. Especially considering that until recently, the most frightening thing to have happened to me was losing Kyle. Apparently, my luck has run out.
Frozen in a bizarre scene, I startle when my phone rings in the quiet that’s settled in the room. Too scared to move, I simply stare at the offending instrument. It rings off, and I sigh with relief. Only to start ringing a scant minute later. Then rings off again.
The tension in the room is so thick, you could almost cut through it.
“I’ve told you twice, I won’t tell you a third time, to get your ass over to where Leila’s standing. I’ll simply shoot you and get it over with,” Edgar says, jabbing Phillip in the chest with his gun.
Phillip stumbles at the unexpected shove, then does as instructed. He slips an arm around my shoulders, hugging me to his side.
“It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and I’m not sure if he’s trying to comfort me or himself.
I don’t get a chance to reply — I’m not sure I’d have been able to anyway — when the phone starts up again.
Eventually Edgar waves his terrifying gun at me. “Just answer the fucking thing. Put it on speaker, but don’t you dare say anything to alert them that anything’s wrong. If you do, I’ll put a bullet in him.”
I’m not sure which is more terrifying — having the weapon trained on me, or knowing I’d be responsible for Phillip’s death if I say anything I shouldn’t.
I lift the handset and push the speaker button. “Phillip Stanton’s office, Leila speaking,” I say, trying my best to keep my voice from trembling.
“Good morning, Ms. Asherton, it’s Lucy from reception. I have a Mr. Jackson here to see you. He says he doesn’t have an appointment.”
I swear I can feel my blood freeze in my veins. The idea of Kyle walking into this goat rodeo, unaware and unprepared, makes me feel ill.
“Um, morning Lucy. Could you please tell Mr. Jackson that I’m in a meeting right now?”
“No problem, Ms. Asherton. I’ll do so.”
I’m about to hang up when an idea pops into my head and, before I can think better of it, I hear myself saying, “Oh, and Lucy, could you please tell him the password I couldn’t remember this morning, it’s Armatrout?”
“Yes, certainly, Ms. Asherton.”
“Thank you.” Lucy hangs up, and I replace the handset, swallowing hard before I turn back to face Edgar.
A sneer turns his plain features ugly. “Oh, how sweet. Domestic bliss at its finest.”
It takes me a minute to get the meaning of his words. But when I do, the import of them is disturbing, to say the least. I’ve not said a word to anyone about Kyle. So what does he mean “domestic bliss”? How does he even know who Kyle is? Oh God, has he been watching me? And if so, why?
Something is very off here. Well, I mean, apart from the current situation I find myself in right this second.
“Hey, Leila?” One of the research and development guys appears in my doorway, and I feel Phillip’s body lock. “Oh, hi Mr. Stanton. You’re just the person I was hoping to speak to.” His gaze turns quizzical as he spots Phillip’s arm around my shoulders.
“Hey, Barry. Now’s really not a good time. I’m just in the middle of something. But as soon as I’m done, I’ll come down to see you, yeah?”
“Yeah, sure thing.”
I hold my breath, waiting for him to leave. The last thing I want, or need, is for Barry to get shot for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I would never have said Edgar was capable of such a thing, but having seen firsthand how comfortable he is holding that gun, I’d say he’s more than capable.
Barry turns away, takes a couple steps, then turns back with a frown on his face. “Sir ...” He pauses for a moment. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, absolutely,” Phillip replies, a fake smile tilting his lips up.
“Oh. Good. Good.” He nods and, thankfully, walks away.
“Close the fucking door, and lock it,” Edgar says to Phillip. “And you, take your phone off the hook.” When we’ve done as demanded, he continues, “Now get your asses into this office.”
With his arm once again settled on my shoulders, Phillip leads me over to his office and allows me to enter first. I’m not sure if it’s that gentlemanly streak of his or a need to protect me by putting himself between Edgar and me, either way, I’m grateful. The feeling of being exposed while my back is turned is a horrible one, to say the least.
And doesn’t that just make me sound like a terrible human being? Feeling relieved that someone else is using themselves as a human shield to protect me. A shudder rolls through me at the thought of anything happening to Phillip because of me.
“You.” Edgar points at me. “Put your ass in that chair.” He indicates a visitor’s chair in front of the desk. “And you,” he says to Phillip, “secure her to the chair.”
“With what, exactly, would you like me to do that? I don’t run around with shit like that, just waiting for a moment like this.” Edgar’s face flushes at the sarcasm clear in Phillip’s reply.
“You’re supposed to be such a smart businessman, figure it out,” he replies through gritted teeth.
After a stare down, fraught with tension and unspoken words, Phillip finally reaches for his tie. “I’m sorry, honey,” he murmurs. Then louder, he says, “Tuck your arms through those of the chair and hold your hands together.”
Understanding his apology, I comply wordlessly so as not to set Edgar off again. He wraps his tie around my wrists, securing them together.
“Now her legs.”
Again, he ponders the problem. This time, he reaches for his belt. He ties them together and then loops it around a chair leg before fastening the clasp. I’m now sitting with my legs at an uncomfortable angle, trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey.
“Now you,” Edgar points at the other visitor’s chair.
My boss takes a seat and, for the briefest moment, it seems like he’s going to rush the other man as he steps closer. “Don’t even think about it. It will not end well for you,” Edgar says, his voice sharp.
Phillip relaxes his body, seeming to comply. He watches as Edgar undoes his own tie to repeat Phillip’s tie trick on me. As the man bends to fasten his hands together, Phillip launches himself at Edgar. A tussle ensues and, for a brief, shining moment, it would seem that Phillip has the upper hand.
There’s a loud bang and his eyes go wide with shock. For long seconds he appears to hang in suspended animation before crumpling to the floor in a bleeding heap.
“Phillip,” I shout, struggling against my bonds, trying desperately to get to him. I need to stop the bleeding. Dear God, how does this keep happening to me?
“Shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch,” Edgar yells at me, and I become aware that I’m sobbing, tears streaming down my face. “I’m trying to think.”
Someone’s bound to have heard the shot and, with luck, is coming to our rescue.
My eyes are glued to Phillip’s still body as Edgar paces around the office, muttering to himself. My conversation with Lucy earlier pops into my head.
Kyle.
I have to close my eyes against the pain that slices through me. We’ve only just found our way back to each other. Surely God wouldn’t be so cruel as to tear us apart again. Tears well in my eyes at the thought. They pop right back open when I remember the cryptic clue I gave Lucy to give to Kyle. Will he understand the reference?
All I can do is pray that he does. My life — our lives — depend on him deciphering what I was trying to say without tipping Edgar off. And again, how the hell did he know about Kyle? And about Kyle and me? I’m coming to realize there’s a whole lot more to the insipid, nerdy “bean counter” I’ve worked with for the last few years.
A whole lot more.
A quiet moan from Phillip has my gaze flying back to where he’s lying on the floor. Blood has spread across his light blue shirt — a rather alarmingly large patch — right in the center of his chest. And it appears to grow as I’m watching.
Our batshit crazy CFO continues to pace, giving no indication that he heard the sound. His grip on the gun in his hand tight, and I fear it might discharge by accident if he suffers even the smallest fright. I’m still debating asking him to release me so I can attend to Phillip, when his eyes track back to mine, and I don’t like the look he gives me.
Thankfully, a sound in my office draws his attention away from me. He points his weapon at me and puts a finger to his lips. I nod, to show him I understand, staying perfectly quiet while he goes to investigate.