Read Online Miranda Vaughn Mystery 01.00 - Chasing the Dollar by Ellie Ashe - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ellie Ashe
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in its silence and in the manner the office had been closed—as if a fire alarm had been pulled and no one on the twenty-third floor returned after the drill.
A soft ding sounded and my heart stopped. I froze and listened to the sound of footsteps on the marble floor. Crap. It was probably security, wondering what happened to the visitor who was expected in Mr. Winthrop 's office. I clutched my purse to my chest as the footsteps ceased. That could mean that the person walked the opposite direction from where I was. Or that he was heading down the carpeted hallway toward me.
I stepped out of my shoes and crouched behind the desk, crawling into the knee hole. I exhaled slowly and tried to control my pounding heart. I couldn 't see if anyone came into the room, so I listened for any sound that might tell me when it would be safe to emerge from my wood-paneled cave. I hoped that whoever it was would glance around the room and not see me, and then leave.
In the silent room, the only sound I could hear was my heartbeat, which sounded like it was echoing through the empty halls. Then I heard it, a slight creak and then the sound of footsteps, the whisper of shoes against the carpet. I held my breath and stayed as still as possible.
The footsteps were closer, and I peeked down at the two inches of clearance under the desk. I couldn't see a damn thing. Not even a shadow. I'd have to lay flat on the floor to see anything, and I didn't dare move. Then the toe of a man's shoe appeared, and I heard the sound of items on the desk being moved just over my head. I pulled my knees closer to me and took slow and shallow breaths. I closed my eyes. How was I going to get myself out of this mess?
The sounds stopped, and the shoe moved out of my line of sight, and I heard the sound of drawers opening. Not in the desk, though. The other person in the room must be looking through the drawers in the built-in bookcases.
Wait. Why would a security guard be rifling through filing cabinets?
Before I could dwell on that, I heard the footsteps near me again. I held my breath and looked skyward, as if God would help me in my predicament. As I did, I saw something on the underside of the desk, way back from the opening I 'd crawled through. I reached up and touched it and traced the packing tape that secured a flash drive to the wood. My fingernail found the edge of the tape, and I slowly tugged, but the crinkling of the cellophane tape was louder than I expected. I froze, and then slowly drew my hand back, closed my eyes, and prayed that the man in the room hadn't heard me.
No luck.
A strong hand gripped my upper arm and yanked me out from my hiding place. I smacked my head on the underside of the desk before emerging into the brightly lit office. I fought back, struggling against the man who ripped me from my hiding place, but he pinned my arms against my sides and pushed me against the wall of bookshelves.
" I don't believe this."
At the sound of the man 's voice, I looked up.
And into the eyes of a very angry FBI agent.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jake Barnes's fingers dug into my upper arms, and he had me immobilized against the bookcase.
" What the hell are you doing here?" His voice was low, almost a whisper. An angry whisper.
I gasped, trying to catch my breath. "Me? What are you doing here?"
My own whisper was more a furious squeak, like a cartoon mouse. He growled and let go of my arms, but didn 't answer.
" Stay quiet," he said.
" Why?" I hissed.
" We're not alone."
The thought that there was someone else on the floor hadn 't occurred to me. I had seen no signs of life since I entered the floor. But as soon as he said it, I listened and heard it. A faint sound, shoes on carpet perhaps. It was coming toward Bill Macias's office, from the opposite direction of the lobby.
Jake pushed me toward the desk. "Hide."
I crawled back into the knee hole of the desk. Again, I could see the faint outline of the flash drive taped under the desk, and
A soft ding sounded and my heart stopped. I froze and listened to the sound of footsteps on the marble floor. Crap. It was probably security, wondering what happened to the visitor who was expected in Mr. Winthrop 's office. I clutched my purse to my chest as the footsteps ceased. That could mean that the person walked the opposite direction from where I was. Or that he was heading down the carpeted hallway toward me.
I stepped out of my shoes and crouched behind the desk, crawling into the knee hole. I exhaled slowly and tried to control my pounding heart. I couldn 't see if anyone came into the room, so I listened for any sound that might tell me when it would be safe to emerge from my wood-paneled cave. I hoped that whoever it was would glance around the room and not see me, and then leave.
In the silent room, the only sound I could hear was my heartbeat, which sounded like it was echoing through the empty halls. Then I heard it, a slight creak and then the sound of footsteps, the whisper of shoes against the carpet. I held my breath and stayed as still as possible.
The footsteps were closer, and I peeked down at the two inches of clearance under the desk. I couldn't see a damn thing. Not even a shadow. I'd have to lay flat on the floor to see anything, and I didn't dare move. Then the toe of a man's shoe appeared, and I heard the sound of items on the desk being moved just over my head. I pulled my knees closer to me and took slow and shallow breaths. I closed my eyes. How was I going to get myself out of this mess?
The sounds stopped, and the shoe moved out of my line of sight, and I heard the sound of drawers opening. Not in the desk, though. The other person in the room must be looking through the drawers in the built-in bookcases.
Wait. Why would a security guard be rifling through filing cabinets?
Before I could dwell on that, I heard the footsteps near me again. I held my breath and looked skyward, as if God would help me in my predicament. As I did, I saw something on the underside of the desk, way back from the opening I 'd crawled through. I reached up and touched it and traced the packing tape that secured a flash drive to the wood. My fingernail found the edge of the tape, and I slowly tugged, but the crinkling of the cellophane tape was louder than I expected. I froze, and then slowly drew my hand back, closed my eyes, and prayed that the man in the room hadn't heard me.
No luck.
A strong hand gripped my upper arm and yanked me out from my hiding place. I smacked my head on the underside of the desk before emerging into the brightly lit office. I fought back, struggling against the man who ripped me from my hiding place, but he pinned my arms against my sides and pushed me against the wall of bookshelves.
" I don't believe this."
At the sound of the man 's voice, I looked up.
And into the eyes of a very angry FBI agent.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jake Barnes's fingers dug into my upper arms, and he had me immobilized against the bookcase.
" What the hell are you doing here?" His voice was low, almost a whisper. An angry whisper.
I gasped, trying to catch my breath. "Me? What are you doing here?"
My own whisper was more a furious squeak, like a cartoon mouse. He growled and let go of my arms, but didn 't answer.
" Stay quiet," he said.
" Why?" I hissed.
" We're not alone."
The thought that there was someone else on the floor hadn 't occurred to me. I had seen no signs of life since I entered the floor. But as soon as he said it, I listened and heard it. A faint sound, shoes on carpet perhaps. It was coming toward Bill Macias's office, from the opposite direction of the lobby.
Jake pushed me toward the desk. "Hide."
I crawled back into the knee hole of the desk. Again, I could see the faint outline of the flash drive taped under the desk, and
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