I grab my cell phone from the desk next to me. Thank God I brought it with me. Unfortunately, I left my purse and everything else in the first office that we started in.
I quickly type out a text message to May, cursing myself for not getting Lucky’s number. I turn off the sound on my phone and send the message. It’s one in the morning, so May is probably sound asleep, but maybe I’ll get lucky and this message will wake her up.
Me: At Blue Marine. Someone coming in. Don’t have Lucky’s number. He’s in the other room.
More sounds come from the hallway. Someone is definitely breaking in. There are two voices, and they’re speaking in hushed tones. My palms start sweating and my heart races. My worst nightmare has come true. We’re busted!
I reach over and turn off the computer monitor, pick up the paper with passwords on it, and drop down below the level of the desk. I’m tempted to hide completely underneath the thing, but I want to verify whether I’m just imagining things, and I need to be able to see over the desk to do that. I wonder what Lucky’s doing. Is he panicking like I am? Is he sending a text to Ozzie? Is he calling the police?
The voices become clearer as they get closer, so now I can tell that at least one of them is a girl.
“Are you sure?” she asks.
A guy answers. “Yes, I’m sure. Would you stop freaking out? You’re making me freak out.”
They could be teenagers or maybe college students. Their voices are too youthful to be older than that. I’m not sure whether this reassures me or makes me more panicked. Kids are prone to making rash decisions. Kids do stupid things when under pressure. Do they have a gun?
“You guys leave lights on in here?” the girl says. “That’s very wasteful, you know.” Apparently, we have a future environmentalist in the building. Nice. I roll my eyes. Doesn’t she realize what she’s doing is more serious than leaving a few lights on? She’s breaking and entering! Where are her parents when she’s off breaking the law?
“How am I supposed to know?” the guy says. “I don’t work here.”
Interesting. The guy doesn’t work here, but he seems to be the one initiating this little visit. Is he here to steal something? Is he related to somebody who works here? I feel like a total spy right now. I strain to hear as much as I can. Who knows? I might be asked to be a witness at some future date.
I duck down even farther. Only the top of my head and my eyeballs are over the top of the desk now. Shadows appear outside the glass windows of the office I’m in. I thank my lucky stars that I didn’t bother turning a light on when I came in. The glow of the computer screen is enough to illuminate the whole room, especially with the lights from the office across the hall shining in. Lucky will be in full view if they go into that office more than a few feet. He’s too big to hide anywhere.
“Come on,” the guy says. “It’s in here.”
Now I can see the two figures clearly. They’re young, but the guy is big. Really big. Like football-player big.
I’ve seen enough. I duck down all the way below the desk, and climb into the knee-hole very carefully and quietly. I pray they can’t hear me breathing. I nearly have a heart attack when the light to the office goes on.
What will I do? What will I say? Will the big guy beat me up? Will he call the police? How will I explain my presence here? Will they believe I’m part of the cleaning crew? That I have permission to be here?
I knew I shouldn’t have come. I knew this was a bad idea. Why did I do this? This is like breaking and entering. Why did I think this had no risk? A thousand other thoughts are running through my brain, and my ears are on fire as I try to imagine the many different scenarios that could possibly roll out in the next five seconds.
I hear footsteps on the carpeted floor. Closer and closer they come . . .
Here it comes . . . The moment of truth . . .
A loud crash rings out from another office.
“What was that?” the girl asks, sounding almost as panicked as I feel.
“Wait here. I’m going to go check.”
“I’m not waiting here by myself! Don’t leave me alone! No way!”
When I hear them leave the office, I let out a long sigh of relief. Lucky caused a distraction to take the heat off me, but now he’s in trouble. What should I do? We’re a team! I can’t abandon him, much as I might want to.
I grab my cell phone and text the first person I think of who can save me. Dev. I don’t stop to question why it’s him who comes to mind and not the actual police, who are supposed to be acting as our backup.
Me: Help! We’re busted! Someone’s here!
His answer comes immediately.
Dev: Can you get out without being seen? Do they have weapons?
Me: I don’t know!
Dev: Call 911. Give them as much detail as you can. Hide. I’m on my way.