A Story written by Purityval
(0703440 1770, email@example.com.)
He was angry, confused and frustrated as he stared at the pictures spread on his table. He’d gotten a parcel from the private eye he’d hired to keep tabs on Claire and spread on his table are pictures of Claire and the guy he thought was dead. What does she know? What has he told her? These and a whole lot of other questions clouded his mind as he sat restlessly. He needed to act as fast as he could; time wasn’t his luxury anymore. He sat thoughtfully for some minutes before picking up his phone and placing a call to a number.
“There is a problem.” He said as the line connected.
Deep in thought in her study, she searched for the umpteenth time the stack of files piled up on her table for the document marked with triple X but couldn’t find any.
She pushed her seat back to the safe box attached to the wall covered by portrait. Taking the portrait away she entered her pass code. The lock clicked and opened automatically. In the safe laid neatly were important documents, stock certificates and other documents related to the company.
Pulling out the neatly arranged files, she carefully flipped through them. She searched specifically for the particular document but couldn’t find it.
Confused and frustrated by the fruitless search, she packed the files back into the safe box and walked out angrily. She was done searching for a document she knew nothing about and was heading to the sitting room to call Bob when a thought struck her. Stopping on her track, she remembered her late father’s safe box.
As a child growing up, she remembered staying with her father while he accessed the safe. He remembered that he had told her the pass code to the safe a couple of times and would intentionally send her to get a file for him from the box just to make her know the code at heart.
From the way the safe box was attached to the wall behind the automatic shelves in her father’s study, she was very sure that only the both of them knew of its existence. She could also remember the difficulties she had back then locating it but over a period of time accessing the safe, she’d gotten used to it and can find her way around it with closed eyes. Could it be there? She asked rhetorically lowering herself on the couch. She hadn’t stopped by at the main house for over three months; the memories that usually followed her visits to the house hardly leave her in weeks. Picking up her key from the table, she decided to drive down to the main house.
To Be Continued…