Dépaysement (h.s)

53

Delilah Lavigne

Today I'm going to Luca's office. I told Harry I'm going shopping for more clothes but that was obviously a lie.

Harry was asleep when I left so I left a note on the fridge, if he calls I'm screwed.

I pull into the warehouse and walk up to the steel doors, knocking in the same pattern that the guys do.

The latch opens and I see a pair of eyes, the man opens the door halfway, "Can I help you?"

"Steve right?" I point to him and he rolls his eyes, "Let me guess, you're with that little shit and his group of friends."

I put my lips in a line, "Yeah.."

"Here to see Luca?"

"Yes I am. He knows I'm coming." I lie, "Is he here?"

"He isn't at the moment but if you'd like you can wait in his office." Wow, that was easy.

"Yeah, thanks." I nod as he opens the door further. I walk past him and in the direction to his office, "It's Rick by the way." The man shouts and I grin even though he can't see, "Same thing!"

I push Luca's door open and walk into the empty office, it feels much bigger when it's just one person in here.

I lock the door just in case he comes in while I am snooping through his shit and walk around his desk—gazing my eyes all around the drawers to decide on which one to go for first.

I open the top one to the right and all I see are files. Same with the next one and the other two. No ring.

I sit on his chair with wheels and spin around in a circle to find where a good hiding spot would be.

There's a tiny table against the window behind his desk and chair so I open the drawer of it just to find it completely empty. "That's a waste of a table." I mutter while sliding it shut.

"If I were a sociopath, where would I hide valuables?" I lean against the chair and spin around in the chair, going in circles as if it will make me think quicker.

There's a bookshelf, but nothing looks out of the ordinary with it. Everything looks pristine and in the right spot, none of the books bulge out as if something was behind it.

I drop my focus to the ground and spot a vent under the useless table that he has.

"Oh my god you sneaky bastard." I get down on my knees to the ground and slide my hand under the table to reach the vent, it pops off easily. I set it aside and dig my hand in it to try and feel something.

All I feel is dust and cobwebs, nothing else.

"What the hell?" I sigh, wiping my dirty hands on his floor.

"Think Delilah. If you had something valuable, where would you hide it?" I sit back on his chair and tap my fingernails against the arm of it while biting my lip. I do it when I think, mind your business.

I try to think back to every hiding place I had when I was younger, but anything that comes to mind would be impossible to have in this very limited space of an office.

But one thing does come to mind, when I was fourteen I kept a journal where I wrote down everything my father had done to me. In fear of him finding it, I asked my mother to create a false bottom in my nightstand drawer. I told her it was for expensive jewelry in case of a break in which she called me smart for, but it sure as hell wasn't.

It couldn't be in his filing cabinet since that's impossible to drill through. So where the hell else would he make one?

"Wait," I stand up from his chair and turn around—staring at the table that was empty. "Holy shit."