Murder
1013 Words
Rowan’s POV
34 Minutes Before Rachel’s Kidnapping
The office was silent as I slipped into Rachel’s workspace. Chandler Enterprises was closed for the day, and most of the staff had already left. My heart pounded in my chest as I approached Rachel’s desk, my eyes scanning the room for the documents I intended to make disappear. It was childish, I knew, but after what she’d done—hiring Sia behind my back—my pride had taken a hit.
I needed to send a message. Sia didn’t belong here, and if I could make her look incompetent—if some critical documents went missing under her watch—it would make it easier to have her thrown out. Rachel wouldn’t have a choice but to let her go. And maybe then, I could regain some control of this sinking ship.
I found the folder, marked with the company’s most confidential project. I grabbed it, ready to stash it somewhere Sia could be blamed. But as I turned to leave, the door creaked open.
Before I could react, a figure rushed toward me, and everything went black.
When I came to, the world around me was a blur. My head throbbed, and my vision swam. I blinked, trying to focus, but what I saw made no sense.
Blood. So much blood.
I was on the floor, my hand gripping a knife, its blade slick with crimson. And there, lying just a few feet away, was Rachel’s body.
“No... No, no, no...” I whispered, dropping the knife in horror. How did this happen? Rachel wasn’t even supposed to be here—she’d left with Sia. I had seen them walk out of the building together just minutes ago.
I scrambled to my feet, disoriented and terrified. My heart raced as I tried to piece together what had happened. My fingerprints were all over the room. The knife. The blood.
I wiped my hand across my face, feeling the sticky warmth of blood smear across my skin.
I was being set up. That much was clear. But who? How?
I stumbled toward the desk, thinking of how to erase any evidence that could tie me to this, but before I could move, I heard the unmistakable sound of sirens.
Arizona Police Department. They were coming.
Panic surged through me. I had minutes—no, seconds—before they would be here. I couldn’t be found like this. I would be arrested, thrown in jail for something I didn’t do.
With no time to waste, I sprang into action. My eyes darted to the janitor’s closet across the hall. I rushed inside and found a stash of cleaning chemicals, some flammable papers, and rags. If I couldn’t clean up the scene, I could at least make sure it was destroyed.
I worked quickly, dumping the chemicals across the desk, splashing them onto the floor. I grabbed the documents and tossed them into the growing pile of debris. The scent of gasoline filled the air, acrid and pungent.
Next, I turned to the CCTV cameras. I climbed up onto Rachel’s desk and yanked down the cameras, pulling out their memory cards and crushing them underfoot. There couldn’t be any footage left. No trace of what had happened.
The fire started easily. I used a lighter I found in the janitor’s closet, and within seconds, the flames were spreading, licking at the walls, the furniture, the files.
I knew I had to act fast. I stripped out of my clothes—every last item, stained with blood—and tossed them into the flames. I couldn't risk any evidence being found on me. Naked, I grabbed a janitor’s smock from the closet and made my escape through the emergency exit.
I ran down the stairs, heart hammering, the sound of the fire alarms blaring in my ears. The building was being evacuated, people pouring out in panic as the smoke billowed from the 36th floor.
I blended in with the chaos, my makeshift disguise drawing no attention. No one even glanced at me as they rushed to get away from the fire.
As soon as I reached the street, the cool night air hit my skin, and for a moment, I thought I’d made it. I had escaped.
Then my phone rang.
I froze, shocked to find I still had my phone in my pocket. In the rush, I must have grabbed it without thinking. I looked down at the screen, my breath catching in my throat when I saw the caller ID. It was an unknown number, but something about it sent a chill down my spine.
Hesitantly, I answered.
A familiar voice came through the line. “Hello, Rowan.”
My blood turned to ice.
Sia.
My grip tightened around the phone, my mind racing. This couldn’t be a coincidence. She wasn’t supposed to know. She wasn’t supposed to be involved in this. Yet here she was, calling me at the worst possible moment.
“Sia?” I croaked, my voice barely a whisper. I looked around, feeling like I was being watched, but there was no one. The crowds had moved on, distracted by the fire raging above.
Her voice was calm, too calm. “Rowan, I.don't know who to call. It is Racheal.”
My heart skipped a beat. Did she know? Did she see me? Or was this part of the setup?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my voice shaky. “I didn’t do anything.”
A pause. Then, she spoke again. "Do What?.”
The line went dead.
I stood there, frozen, the phone still pressed to my ear as the world swirled around me. What had just happened? Was she part of this? Was she involved in setting me up? Or was she just another pawn in a game that I was only beginning to understand?
I couldn’t tell.
All I knew was that everything had just gone from bad to worse. And I had no idea how I was going to fix it.
- Writer
