ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀᴄᴋᴇᴛᴇᴇʀ

Thirteen | ᴋɪᴛᴛʏ

The typewriter made a pleasant ding as Kitty hit ‘return’ for the final time and pulled the completed letter free of the platen.

Crossing her legs and leaning back in her chair, she skimmed the result of her efforts with a keen eye. Well done. Professional, informative, brief, yet polite. No typos that she could see. Yes, well done.

She set the letter aside and cast a wry glance at the door of Liam's office. Still closed.

Kitty sighed. It was late. Dusk had come and gone well over an hour ago. Everyone else had left for the night. Headed home, or to the Broken Crown pub. Like a good secretary, Kitty remained. Awaiting the reemergence of her employer.

But the office door stayed shut.

Kitty drummed her fingernails on the surface of the desk. Liam's behavior always tended to be a bit taciturn and secretive. She'd long since learned to take that in stride. But today it was exceptionally so.

Following his mysterious ‘lunch appointment,’ he'd strode through the doors of Mercer Industries gone two in the afternoon, a look of distraction on his habitually solemn face. He hadn't communicated that he'd be away so long, and once he'd returned, he offered no word of explanation. No word at all. Not so much as a bloody “hello.” Instead, he'd gone into his office, shut the door, and remained there for the rest of the day.

Kitty looked up at the clock on the wall and heaved another sigh. “Alright, Will,” she muttered, getting to her feet. “That's enough games for one day, thank you.”

Collecting the afternoon's most crucial messages, she walked to his office door and rapped her knuckles against the wood.

Nothing.

Alarm and irritation nipped at her mind in equal parts, and she opened the door a crack. “Liam?” she called.

When he neglected to answer again, she passed through the doorway and walked into his office.

Liam was seated at his desk by the far wall, eyes unfocused, a tall glass of whiskey held in a slackened grip.

Kitty approached, messages in hand. “Would it kill ya to answer? Thought you'd offed yo'self in here,” she joked in a humorless voice. “Somethin' on your mind?”

He didn't look in her direction, or even acknowledge that she'd come into the room. At last he said, “There's always somethin' on me mind, Kitty.”

She rolled her eyes covertly as she stepped up next to his chair, setting the messages and their related documents on the desktop before him. “Well, then, you can add a few more items to that list, eh? First, two more resignations this afternoon. From Bridgewater Car and Van Factory. The two workers resigning wouldn't come out and say as much, but I got the impression they were headin' over to Gallagher Automotive Factory. ‘Better wages,’ they said.”