Chapter 2 — The Assignment
938 Words
The man did not answer.
That irritated Anelise more than it should have.
She stepped away from the cabinet and switched on the overhead light.
Nothing happened.
Of course.
She sighed.
“Does anything in this building actually work?”
“Not consistently.”
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
Anelise looked at him properly for the first time.
He was tall enough that she had to tilt her chin slightly. Nearly black hair, slightly disordered from the humidity, dark eyes that gave away very little. There was a faint scar across one knuckle of his right hand.
He looked like a man who had learned not to waste movement.
She disliked that immediately.
“Name.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Excuse me?”
“Your name.”
“Vicente Krieger.”
The surname landed before she could stop it.
Krieger.
She looked at the papers in her hand.
Then back at him.
“Krieger Engineering?”
“Yes.”
“So you're the structural engineer.”
“I am.”
“Convenient.”
His expression remained neutral.
“For whom?”
“For the people paying me to tell them whether this building is safe.”
He folded his arms.
“You think I'm here to influence your assessment?”
“I think you're here because your company has a financial interest in what happens to this station.”
“That doesn't answer your question.”
“It answers enough.”
A faint crease appeared between his eyebrows.
“You've been here less than an hour.”
“And I've already found something your company apparently missed for thirty-seven years.”
That got his attention.
He walked toward the cabinet.
Anelise moved slightly, blocking his path.
“Don't.”
He stopped.
“I'm not going to touch anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was going to look.”
“You can look from there.”
For the first time, something almost like amusement touched his mouth.
“You're difficult.”
“So I've been told.”
“I can see why.”
She should not have noticed the warmth in his voice.
She did anyway.
Vicente looked at the photograph in her hand.
“Where did you find that?”
“Behind a recently repaired wall.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Recently?”
“Fresh mortar underneath old paint.”
He looked toward the opening.
“When did you arrive?”
“Seven thirty.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Who gave you access?”
“The redevelopment office.”
He nodded slowly.
“Then they failed to tell you something.”
Anelise waited.
“The western wing was supposed to remain sealed until my team completed the preliminary inspection.”
She stared at him.
“Your team?”
“Yes.”
“So why wasn't I informed?”
“I don't know.”
“That sounds like a problem between you and the people who hired me.”
“It is.”
“Good.”
She turned back to the cabinet.
Vicente stepped closer.
“I need to see the documents.”
“You need to explain why you reacted when you saw the photograph.”
“I didn't.”
“You did.”
“I recognized the room.”
“You recognized the damage.”
He looked at her.
“You're very observant.”
“I get paid for it.”
Before he could answer, the lights flickered.
Anelise glanced upward.
“That's new.”
The lights went out.
Complete darkness swallowed the room.
Then came a metallic crash.
Anelise startled.
Something struck the floor behind her.
She stepped backward and collided with Vicente.
His hands caught her arms automatically.
“Don't move.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
He released her immediately.
A second sound came from the corridor.
A door slamming.
Anelise pulled out her phone and switched on the flashlight.
Vicente was already moving.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
He looked back.
“Anelise.”
She froze.
“You know my name?”
He paused.
Only for a second.
But she noticed.
“How do you know that?”
“I saw your name on the inspection paperwork.”
She didn't believe him.
Not completely.
The emergency lights finally came on.
Vicente turned toward the cabinet.
Anelise followed.
The photograph was gone.
She stared at the empty space where she had placed it.
“What?”
Vicente checked the floor.
Nothing.
The cabinet.
Nothing.
The photograph had disappeared.
“You took it.”
He looked at her sharply.
“No.”
“Then who did?”
“I don't know.”
She stepped closer.
“Someone was in this room.”
“I know.”
“You told me not to move.”
“Yes.”
“Which means you knew there was another way into the room.”
“I said I knew someone was here.”
“That's not the same thing.”
His jaw tightened.
He reached into his pocket.
Anelise saw an old plastic access card between his fingers.
The edges were worn.
The name printed across it was faded, but readable.
She moved closer.
Her stomach dropped.
MATEUS PUHL.
She knew that name.
Everyone in her family did.
Her uncle.
A man who had supposedly died in a highway accident in 1989.
A man who had never, according to her father, worked at Estação Aurora.
Anelise looked from the card to Vicente.
Her voice came out quieter than she intended.
“Why do you have my uncle's name?”
Vicente said nothing.
And that silence was answer enough.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD