Rogue

Isaac-Chapter 22

This had been far too easy. Isaac lifted Mr. Persson's office key off him, made a duplicate, and returned the key before the man even noticed. For being a high ranking businessman, he really wasn't as smart as he should be.

As soon as lunch break rolled around, Isaac entered the office building in a nice suit, a great looking tie, and shnazzy shoes and no one even batted an eye. He made it past the front desk and swiped the security badge he pilfered off of someone's belt before entering the elevator. Three floors up and he got off, looking around him at the slur of activity around him. But he didn't stand gawking for long before he made his way down the hallway, unlocked the door to Mr. Persson's office, and slipped inside.

Isaac scouted the place out long enough to know where Mr. Persson kept the files his client needed. Crossing over to the safe in the corner, Isaac typed in a code and opened the safe box, taking out anything and everything inside. Mr. Persson wouldn't even know what had hit him.

With several manilla folders under his arm, Isaac closed the safe back up and was about to open the door when the knob turned on its own, causing his heart to skyrocket. He darted behind the door just as Mr. Persson himself walked into the office.

"Forgot my wallet," Mr. Persson mumbled to himself as he walked further into the room, but by then Isaac had already slipped out the door without being detected. It felt as if he held his breath all the way down the hall, down the elevator, and outside the building, just waiting for someone to chase after him, but no one did.

That was a close one...

Several blocks later, Isaac turned into a restaurant and easily found his client sitting at one of the booths, waiting for his arrival.

"Do you have the files I requested?" Mr. Frisk asked in a husky voice as soon as Isaac sat down.

"That and more," Isaac replied, scooting the files across the table toward him. "You're gonna wanna take a look at these. Your suspicions are correct. Mr. Persson has killed five people to get where he is now. But I don't want to be involved in this anymore. I got what you wanted. Now I'll just take my payment and leave."

Mr. Frisk searched through the files, his eyebrows scrunching together more and more with each paper he flipped through. "I don't like this one bit," he murmured, finally looking up to stare at Isaac. "Where did you get this?"

"Mr. Persson's office in his personal safe."

Swearing under his breath, Mr. Frisk turned another page and his eyes widened as he stared down at a picture of a balding man. "This man was said to have committed suicide a couple years ago. I didn't even know that Persson killed him."

"I don't want to get involved," Isaac reminded him darkly.

"Oh, right." Frisk reached into his pocket and pulled out a check, handing it to Isaac. "I honestly doubt that your name is Riley Fester, so I didn't make the check out to anyone. I think you can take care of that yourself."

Isaac pocketed the check and nodded before standing up. His work here was done, and part of him felt good about what he just did. This business branch was about to fall pretty hard and for good reason too. But then again, he didn't want to be involved any more than he had to.

When Isaac exited the restaurant, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, a wary feeling washing over him. Someone was watching him—he could feel it.

Very quickly, Isaac scanned the sidewalks of people and streets full of cars but found nothing. Was he just being paranoid?

Even though he didn't see anyone, he couldn't ignore the years of experience that taught him to trust his instincts. Isaac quickly turned on his heel toward the alleyway of the restaurant, taking several turns before making a full circle. He should get out of there, but he wanted to know who was after him.