***
"It surprised everyone, the night the young Miss brought home a strange young man. But since it was the first voluntary action she'd taken since that incident, even Mr Rhinehart did not protest too much when she declared him her secretary. He did dote on his daughter a little too much." - Mrs Kerlinger, head of kitchen staff at the Rhinehart Mansion.
***
Half an hour later I’m at the police station, instead of an abandoned warehouse and they’re trying to take my handbag from me, saying something about shoko, which I think means evidence.
“I refuse to do anything without the presence of my lawyer. Let me call one first.” They allow that at least. Well, after someone whispers the translation to the detective in charge.
Luckily I didn’t lose my bag in all that commotion. Well, I did clutch it to my chest, taking some kind of comfort from it. It’s only when I open my bag to take out my phone that I realize that this is not my bag. It’s black leather. It’s the same size. But it’s not Mulberry limited edition autumn 2013. I nearly cry. How have I been carrying the wrong bag, which now that I think about it feels much lighter, and not realizing it? My purse, my credit cards, my cell phone, my hotel room card, my driver’s licence amongst other things. It’s all gone. I’m feeling strangely numb. I don’t even have John’s number memorized. It’s speed dial number 3.
I open the cheap designer knock-off bag. There’s only a velvet black box inside.
I slowly lift my hand for attention. “My bag.” My voice comes out in a whisper.
“Uh?”
I clear my throat for some strength in my voice. “My bag. This isn’t my bag. I think I left it in the jewellery shop. It’s called… I don’t know what it’s called. It’s right next to where you arrested me. It was a Japanese brand. Someone get it. Hurry! Before someone steals it. Please. Onegaishimas [5]. It’s a black Mulberry’s fall 2013 limited edition. Please get it. It's limited edition. They don't sell those anymore.” I’m starting to panic now. It was a present from the designer herself. And aside from that, what if someone goes through my stuff? My phone. My cards. My freaking passport.
A lady in a suit comes and asks me in English to repeat myself slowly. So I do.
“Wakarimashta [6].” She nods and orders one of the men something. Hopefully to retrieve my bag.
I take the velvet box out of the bag and open it. A gorgeous diamond ring shines back at me. The center rock, surrounded by little emerald gems, is huge. 40 carat at the least.
Everything after that happens in a blur. I only remember unfamiliar Japanese sentences being thrown about, the box forcibly taken from me, policemen whipping out their phones or walki-talkies and shouting into them. That’s kinda when I realize what’s going on. I mean, come on, I’m not that slow. They suspect me of stealing the ring. Or accusing more like, since it’s not like I can’t afford it or anything.
At that moment, amidst the chaos, Jonathan bursts into the room, with a woman running after him shouting something like he's not allowed into this room. “Lynn! Are you okay? What the hell is going on? I keep hearing stuff about being a suspect.”
“Jonathan!” I cry out relieved.
He rushes towards me. Once he’s finished checking for any injuries I make him stand in front of me, while I lean my forehead on his steady figure and close my eyes. He gently places his palm on my head and murmurs, “I was so worried I messed up and something bad had happened.”. The safely-home feeling nearly sends me to tears. But of course I stop myself. Leonara S Rhinehart doesn’t cry in front of people. She’s stronger than that.
YOU ARE READING
Running into her
General Fiction"I just want to see if this will teach me how to feel again. And since you seem to want to die anyhow, will you please let me kill you?” Dubbed as the Walking Disaster Magnet, Leonara Rhinehart, the Rhinehart conglomerate's sole heir, only goes to T...
