2
Daniel
That delivery guy was definitely up to something.
He clocked all of the cameras inside and outside of the building when he walked in, and avoided each one.
That’s probably why the receptionist thought he was walking or acting strangely.
And he did look out of place—he looked like a merc, not a delivery boy.
Any other package, maybe I would have thought it was a coincidence, but not with these documents.
“Nothing on CCTV. I’ll keep looking around the area,” Terry said over the phone. I hung up and turned to Rick.
“Where did she go?”
“Lydia? She just left. I’m on duty for the next hour. Package is clean on X-ray, sir.”
“Put it in the containment box and lock the room. No one opens that but me.”
I ran out of the building, looking for the receptionist, and spotted someone with a white streak in her hair walking toward the bus stop.
“Ms. Davis, stop!”
I froze when she turned and clenched her fists. Was she scared of me? Now that we were both standing without the large desk between us, I realized how small she looked. I took a step back, hoping to appear less threatening.
“Mr. Mason.” Her voice managed to sound even colder than before.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Davis, I need you to come back to my office.”
“Why? Have I done something wrong?”
“No. You were right to suspect the courier, and he avoided the cameras. You’re the only person who saw him up close.” I smiled and added, “enough to know he wasn’t flirting with his eyes.” She didn’t seem to find that amusing.
I had already texted a friend who was a forensic artist and could be in my office ASAP. If it weren’t Friday, I would have considered waiting until morning, but it definitely couldn’t wait two days.
She frowned and nodded before following me back to the building.
I took a moment to look at her when we were in the elevator.
She still hadn’t said a word and was standing beside me, facing the door, looking completely content with the silence.
She was much shorter than me—probably five-one, five-two.
I saw that she had light gray eyes when she first gave me the package, and standing beside her in the elevator, I could clearly see that thick white streak in her hair.
It was about three inches wide from her temple, swirling into her bun, which was held in place by a sharp, light beige stick.
Was that bone?
She didn’t have any jewelry on except for a silver band on her right middle finger, which she touched softly with her thumb.
When the doors opened on the thirtieth floor, I motioned for her to follow me to my office.