Deconstructing Bridges

Chapter Three

"Where the hell is she?" Matthew exclaimed as he threw his arms behind his head in exasperated anger.

How had one woman managed to disappear off the face of the Earth this way? There had been no trace of her on any traffic or surveillance cameras they had accessed within the surrounding area. No trace of Rosalind Bridges or Rose Hallam had come up on credit card or passport checks, none of his hard work had turned up any leads on her and he was going out of his mind.

Eddie had still not arrived for the day, whereas Matthew had remained cramped over his computer for hours already today. His eyes were beginning to ache from staring at the screen, and he rubbed at them in annoyance.

Unable to sleep, as was rapidly becoming the norm for him, he had arrived at five in the morning and had repeatedly studied the surveillance footage which had enabled the team to catch her in the act, uncovering her deception.

She'd had a key. She'd used a fucking key, and he was sure that his own had been safely in his pocket. So she had a copy. Somewhere along the way, she'd managed to make a copy. Not only that, but she had not even hesitated before tapping the secure code into the the keypad lock, so somehow she had figured that out as well. She had gone straight for the file. She had not needed to get her bearings, or to search where the relevant file might have been kept. No, she had gone straight to it. How many times had she managed her little stealth break-in to the secure room over the entire time she had been in his life?

Her break-in had lasted all of four minutes. Not at all long enough to pique his curiosity when she had excused herself for a bathroom break during her visit. Oh, she was good, she was very very good.

Lifting his head, he looked around the office where once again people were staring at him in sympathy.

Why sympathy still? What did they think? That he was still pining over her?

Well, they were dead wrong. He'd actually managed the impossible - he'd trained himself out of love with her in what he considered to be record time. By meditating on every loving moment they'd shared and teaching himself that it had all been a manipulative lie, he no longer felt anything but shrewd determination when he thought of her.

Bridges.

They all still called her Bridges. He still thought of her as Bridges.

When this was over, he was definitely going to change his name. Yet another thing she had ruined for him.

Get back to task, Matt, he chided himself.

A second before leaning over the keyboard again, his eyes fell on Hayley McKinney.

Unlike everybody else, she was not sending glances his way. She was staring a little too intently at the report in front of her, and immediately he was hit with guilt at the way he had snapped at her. She had not exactly ignored him in the last week since he had lost his cool, but she had been careful to stay out of his way. He couldn't blame her for that. It had probably been the smartest move on her part.

His mobile rang, breaking his line of thought and he glanced at the screen.

Wong. For God's sake, how long did it take to pick up coffee on your way to work? Eddie only lived fifteen minutes away. Matthew was hanging on by a thread, and he was dependent on his caffeine for survival. Eddie had to know that, surely. Not the concentrated dirt they seemed intent on serving here. He needed the good stuff.

"Eddie? What's taking so long?"

His partner groaned on the other end.

"Don't make a big deal about it. I might have had a little accident."