He was stealing everything. Not just the presentation, but all my research, my strategies, months of work that could be worth millions to Morrison Industries competitors. I watched him copy file after file, his movements efficient and practiced. This wasn’t his first time doing this. My phone buzzed again. A text from an unknown number.
“Payment confirmed. Bonus if you get the client contact list, too.”
Alex’s phone. Someone was texting him instructions in real time. I quickly screenshotted the message before it disappeared from his lock screen.
“Perfect,” Alex said, apparently finding what he was looking for. “Morrison Industries won’t know what hit them.”
The sound of sirens in the distance made my heart leap, but they also made Alex freeze. He stopped typing and tilted his head, listening.
“What the hell?” he muttered, standing up from the desk.
The sirens were getting closer. Alex moved toward the window and I realized with horror that he would see the police cars approaching. I had seconds before he discovered I was gone from the kitchen floor. I scrambled back toward the kitchen as quietly as possible, but I wasn’t fast enough. Alex’s footsteps were already moving down the hallway.
“Mia,” he called out. “Mia, where are you?”
I dove behind the kitchen island just as he entered the room. Through the gap under the cabinets, I could see his feet moving around the broken ceramic, searching.
“Mia.”
His voice was sharper now, panicked.
“Where the hell are you?”
The sirens were right outside now. Red and blue lights flashed through the windows, and I heard car doors slamming. Alex ran back toward the office, probably to destroy evidence. This was my chance. I stood up and ran for the front door, unlocking it just as Detective Thompson reached the porch.
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