Mercer

The office is in complete darkness, the door closed.

Staring it down, the rain battering against the windows falls to the background over the sound of my rapidly thumping heart. There could be nothing on the other side of that door, and there could be everything. The senator’s cars were gone from the street on my approach but that means nothing. I’ve seen enough movies to know the bad guys have ways of making a place seem empty.

Fueled by the desire for the evidence, I hadn’t given much thought to what I would do if I came back here and the senator was still here.

Now that I’ve arrived, hand hovering over the doorknob, I still have no clue.

My heart pounds so hard it’s almost in my throat and I try to swallow it down as I grasp the doorknob and turn it.

The copper smell of blood hits me through the darkness as soon as I step inside. Nausea from earlier rears its head once more. I swallow repeatedly, trying to drown the sensation and I turn on the light.

My chest cracks open in pain and tears fill my eyes.

Charlie’s body is still on the floor.

They left him here.

They fucking left him here.

His skin is pale and the gray carpet has turned brown around his body where his blood has soaked in. His eyes are closed and he would look peaceful if not for the crimson-drenched shirt.

I blink but the tears don’t shift, they slip down my cheeks as more flood my eyes and I have to press the heels of my palms to my face to stop them.

“Come on, Mercer,” I mutter to myself, “not now.”

Breaking down and crying next to a body won’t help anyone.

Charlie’s corpse is hard to ignore as I begin my search of the office. We’d never kept secrets from one another and had shared every aspect of our lives up until the moment I found out about his gambling addiction. Because of that, I have no idea what he would have deemed secure enough to hold his evidence. I don’t even know what to look for—a folder, a book, files on a computer? He had been so vague, only providing reassurance when I’d pressed for more info.

I start with the filing cabinets near the wall, carelessly ripping them open and flipping through every folder for anything that looks out of place. Nothing jumps out to me. I even stick my hand far to the back in case there’s anything hidden at the back of the drawers but other than hinge grease, I find nothing.

I check the safes next. We have two, the business one and the personal one. The personal safe is filled with only small things like Charlie’s late father’s watch, a fancy pen I was gifted by a charity some years ago, some emergency cash, and a few bits and bobs that we hold dear. Nothing unusual. The same goes for the business safe. There’s nothing unusual, nothing secret.

Frustration begins to rise and I start pulling out all the drawers on Charlie’s desk in search of anything that could give me some hint as to what he was talking about. This frantic attack on our office turns up nothing and just as I begin to lose hope, the elevator dings.

Someone is here?

Shit. With no time to think, I fling myself behind the desk and press flat to the ground as heavy footfalls thud from the hallway. I try to hold my breath as the steps pause for a few seconds, then they come closer and closer to the office.

I glance absently from the door and freeze.

Lying here, I’m exactly in line with Charlie’s body on the other side of the desk and my heart stops.

I’ve never seen a dead body before.

There’s something really surreal about seeing the dead body of your best friend.

I push up from the floor and huddle against the side of the desk just as a man walks slowly into the room. As I peer around the edge of the desk, he doesn’t seem to notice the mess in the office. He’s too distracted by something in his hands.

It’s a small padded envelope.

He rips it open at one end and begins shaking the contents out onto his palm, and as he does, it suddenly clicks in my mind where it must have come from.

That woman from before, she’d had something similar in her hands and I vaguely remember her dropping it as she turned and ran. From my hiding place, I continue to watch as the man finally dislodges a small black pen drive from inside the envelope. It bounces off his palm and clatters to the floor, landing a few feet away from my hiding position.

Of course.

That must be Charlie’s evidence! He must have mailed it to himself to keep the evidence out of the senator’s hands while ensuring it would come back to him. That’s such a Charlie thing to do and the thought brings a small affectionate bubble of warmth to my chest.

I need that drive.

The man grunts and doubles over to pick up the drive. I react before I can even comprehend what I’m doing.

Launching up from my hiding place, I throw my entire body weight into the man and send him crashing into the opposite desk with a surprised cry. He collides with the wood and sends the computer and all the utensils clattering to the floor. I snatch up the pen drive and turn to run away but he’s too fast, already back on his feet within a second. His fists grab the back of my shirt and he hauls me backward, sending me toppling over Charlie’s desk.

I hit the ground on the other side with a yelp and clutch the drive tightly in one hand. I’m not a fighter, not since my youth, but adrenaline and fear have taken hold of me here. Back on my feet, the man advances so I grab the nearest thing—a computer monitor—and launch it at him.

It catches him square in the shoulder and he stumbles off balance. I scramble up on top of the desk and throw myself at him, crashing into his torso and sending us both thudding hard down to the ground. The impact knocks the wind out of my lungs. I roll over but a thick arm winds around my waist.

A punch lands solid on my face and pain explodes hot around my nose. I cry out, and suddenly I’m being thrown up and across the room. Crashing into the wall, the impact shocks my elbow, and the precious pen drive slips from my grasp as I land. Gasping for air, I scramble up but the attacker is already on me and his boot drives hard into my gut, sending me back into the wall.

Blood sprays up from my throat and my eyes sting from the punch.

I have no hope here, not against someone like this.

“What the fuck,” the man grunts and he stumbles slightly. “Fuckin’ little rat hiding here, for what, huh? Wade never said anythin’ about some fucker bein’ here.”

He delivers another powerful kick to my abdomen and my world flashes white, pain crashing through my body mingling with the nausea already sitting in my gut. I can’t think, I can’t ease my muscles enough to breathe. All I can do is croak.

As the white fades, the stranger approaches the pen drive and once again bends to pick it up.

The one piece of evidence, the one chance I have to do anything about Charlie is lost to me.

No.

Not like this.

The fear of Charlie—and myself—fading into obscurity just because Wade deems it so floods me with renewed energy. I surge up from my spot on the floor and charge at the man with a yell. He flinches in surprise and turns to face me just as I collide full force with his muscular form.

We topple back and fall, landing with a sickening crack and I’m flung to the side. I scramble up, rounding on the man with a fist raised and ready to fight but he lies next to me, motionless and silent.

“What…?”

Glancing up, there’s a splatter of blood and blond hair on the edge of the desk. The man must have hit his head on the way down.

“Oh no…” Nausea swells and I cough as realization dawns. Did I kill this man? Am I now just as guilty as Wade?

A moment of silence passes, then I press two fingers to his thick throat.

A strong pulse greets me and I can’t contain my sigh of relief. Not dead, just knocked the fuck out.

Any chance I have to catch my breath, however, vanishes the moment he groans. I snatch up the pen drive and step back.

I have no idea where to go, or what to do next except run. On my way out, I grab the emergency cash from our personal safe.

It’s the only thing that can help me right now.