The Insider

Chapter 13

Lawrence lifted his eyes up from his computer screen watching progress in the program that he's running. He noticed Miranda grab the knob of the front door and heard a silent click.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked.

"Downstairs, to my apartment," she replied

"What? Are you stupid?" He shouted.

"No, Sir I'm not!" She shouted back. "It's been hours. I believe they've already left now because, of course, there's nothing there to be found!" She reasoned.

"And also I'm starving," she added. "So unless you can magically make food appear, then I'll guess I need go downstairs to grab us some food."

He forgot about food entirely. His mind focused only on ensuring that the Phoebe data cannot be decrypted. At Miranda's reminder, his stomach grumbled at him.

"Let's just order take out, have it delivered up here," he said.

"Yeah, we can do that," she said, calming down. "But that would take at least an hour, Sir. And right now, I'm really starving." She sighed. "I know you are, too. So please let me go down, I have left over food in my fridge.

"And I need to grab a change of clothes, this uniform is killing me."

Lawrence contemplated the risks. What if she runs away? What if she gets caught? Will she rat out on him?

"I'll go with you," he said, standing up. "If there's one thing about the police that I've learned, they don't follow their leads twice. And finding you out of your apartment, I'm sure they won't be returning there anytime soon."

"Yeah, figured out that much, too."

* * *

Miranda moved to insert her key to her door but found it to be already unlocked. She opened it and reached for the light switch at the doorway. When the light flooded the room, she let out a tiny cry as she saw what the police has done to her place.

All her tables are turned over and almost all of her precious bits and bobs have either been negligently strewn over the floor or worse broken into hundreds of tiny pieces.

"What have they done?" she asked no one in particular. She gently walked over to the refrigerator, hoping to find food. When she reached it, she found it open and the contents thrown either on the kitchen counter or on the floor.

She managed to salvage a bag of bread from the floor, opened it and dug for a slice.

"Here, Sir." She offered the bag to Lawrence who was silently following behind her. "Eat some, to ease your hunger until our order arrives."

"Thanks," he said.

"I'll just go and grab some clothes." She said as she proceeded to the bed room.

Lawrence also followed her there and found himself in a pretty room full of dainty things. He noticed a queen-sized bed in the middle of it. The flower printed covers were torn out of the mattress, obviously searched by the police as well.

He looked to his left and saw a wall of pictures. There are some with Miranda smiling widely in front of sunny sights, some with a lot of friends, and some with an older woman, obviously her mother, judging by their unmistakable similarity.

But one particular picture caught his attention. It was of her and and a guy in a beachfront. He had his arms around her shoulders and they are both looking very happy, very happy indeed. He was in board shorts and she in a tiny pair of yellow bikinis.

He again felt a gentle stirring beneath his pants at the sight of her in her bikini. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He obviously cannot think of her that way anymore. He never knew she's got a boyfriend. How stupid of him. Obviously, who wouldn't want a girl like her? A woman her type? Of course boys all around are trying to get her.

He sat on her bed, taking in the pronounced femininity of her room. He glanced at the bottom of the bed and saw a pile of lacy stuff strewn on the floor. Varying colors of underwear greeted his sight and he reached over for a particularly tiny white one.

Miranda is in the small walk-in closet, still looking for clothes and Lawrence tried to stifle his smile as he inspects one of her panties. Lucky bastard, he thought, thinking about Miranda's boyfriend who probably had the opportunity to take her panties off every night.

Lawrence was startled as Miranda suddenly got out of her closet. Thankfully she was looking down when she did, trying to zip up the bag of clothes on her hands. Lawrence placed his hands on his side and tried to slip the panties into his pocket silently.

"Are you done?" He asked.

"Yes, Sir," she answered. "What's your shoe size?" She asked looking at him quizzically.

"12, why?"

"Good," she said, not answering his question. "C'mon, let's go!" She grabbed his arms and walked quickly out of the room.

When they reached the kitchen, she stopped for a while and walked back to grab the bag of bread. She glanced around, as if looking for something then walked over to pick up bottles of energy drink by the kitchen floor.

She then went back to Lawrence side and nodded at him. "I think that's all, Sir. Let's go."

* * *

"Is that the food?" Miranda said, barefoot and freshly showered.

"Yup," Lawrence said, closing the door behind him. "Come here, let's eat."

Miranda walked over to the kitchen island, inspecting the food that Lawrence has laid on top of it. She grabbed some fries and placed them inside her mouth before she wrapped her wet hair in a towel.

When she flipped her hair, Lawrence caught a whiff of her fragrant shampoo and he couldn't help but notice Miranda's nipples through her shirt which hardened after her cold shower. Yes she was wearing a bra, but it's obviously the type which doesn't have padding and due to the lack of mirror in Lawrence's bathroom, she never noticed her appearance.

Lawrence looked away, focusing on his task of taking the food out of their bags.

"Do you have clothes here, Sir?" She said as she sat herself in the stool beside Lawrence.

"No, why?"

"Yeah, figured out that much when I went to the room. Your closets looked empty."

"I haven't been here in months," Lawrence said. "This was my first apartment. I've since moved to a building nearer the office. But I couldn't let this go. Sentimental reasons, I guess." He finished, looking at her.

"You've never struck me as a sentimental type," she said. "Anyways, I also brought some clothes for you, and a pair of running shoes," she added and then proceeded to look at his feet which were enclosed in black leather formals.

"I guess those must be killing you," she said, raising her eyes to look at him.

Curiosity got the hold of Lawrence and he blurted out, "Who owns them?"

"What?" Miranda replied.

"Who owns the clothes that you're lending me?" Lawrence asked. "Are they your boyfriend's?"

Miranda smiled at him widely, "No, I don't have a boyfriend. Actually, I've never had a boyfriend."

Lawrence couldn't believe what he heard. "Really?"

"Really," she nodded.

"Then who's that dude with you in that picture with you in a yellow bikini?" He asked, unable to control his curiosity.

"I didn't notice you looking around, Snoopy," she said teasing him with a smile. She let out a sweet laugh and looked at him intently.

"That's my baby brother," she said. "And the clothes are his," she continued. "He left them with me when he moved to a different apartment with his friends near his university."