I had an early morning breakfast with Dinlas the next morning. He told me how the tracking had gone the night before. Taking the torn piece of shirt he and his she-wolves had found, I thanked him for his help and told him I would keep him posted. As we parted company, I had a feeling it would take more than the two of us to find the person responsible.
I went back to the Wares Security building and gave the torn shirt to my forensics specialist. She wasn’t happy that it hadn’t been given to her right away. After calming her down, I asked her to put a rush on it. She started throwing things at me, and I beat a hasty retreat. Mortal women had become more defensive about things over the past 2,000 years. My retreat may have seen cowardly to you, but I would rather deal with a happy woman than one who is seriously pissed off. And every man and god I know would agree with me.
At this point, I felt the best thing to do was to get access to Ophelia’s office. To do that, I needed to talk to Dad first, at which time, I could give him an update on the overnight developments.
What bothered me the most was the fact that both Charlie and Ophelia had been killed within hours of us seeing them at the restaurant. What I wanted to know was what had happened from the time they left to the time Dad found Ophelia in his office.
My phone dinged, and I looked at a text message from Aunt Demeter, who was ranting about Mother smiting someone in her office at the OA building. Aunt Demeter said she might require my services in cleaning up the mess. She also mentioned something about everyone coming into her office like they owned the place, and it was upsetting her greatly. Hiring an assistant was mentioned as the only solution, in order to keep the revolving office door closed. I texted her back, promising to take a look at Mother’s office, as well as telling her I would look into finding her an assistant. Maybe Reginald would know someone who would be interested in working in a law office.
The lobby was rather quiet when I walked through toward the elevators. I wondered if people knew about Ophelia’s death. I was going to have to question these people and ask them what they knew about their late human resources manager.
When I got off the elevator on Dad’s floor, Cassandra was at her desk, and she didn’t look happy. “What’s the matter?” I asked her.
“I am so tired of the deliverymen coming up here and hitting on me,” she replied. “It’s annoying and disturbing all at the same time.”
Thinking of Aunt Demeter’s text, I decided to talk to Cassandra about it. But I wanted to talk to Dad first. “Is he in?”
“Yes, he is, and he’s in a good mood for once. I find that rather surprising, considering what we found in his office last night. Are you going to tell him about Charlie?”
I nodded. “He needs to be updated on the new developments.”
“He’s not going to be very happy to hear it.”
“I know.” Taking a deep breath, I walked over to his door and knocked.
“Come in!”
“Good luck,” Cassandra said as I opened the door and went inside.
Ares is written by mystery writer Teresa Watson, author of thirteen books. She loves all things that involve sports and war movies.
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