10. Philophobia

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♡Chapter dedicated to avvvii

"Way down until the fire finally dies out.
You got them wrapped around your finger, watch them fall down.
There's something beautiful and tragic in the fall out." Panic! at The Disco

"How much a year do you think they spend on cleaning chemicals?" Jon glanced at the pristine white walls, floors and ceiling of the Hillhurst Pharmaceutical hallway

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"How much a year do you think they spend on cleaning chemicals?" Jon glanced at the pristine white walls, floors and ceiling of the Hillhurst Pharmaceutical hallway.

"Jon," Isaiah warned, quickening his pace so that the shorter man had to walk faster to keep up with him. "What does it matter?"

"I'm just curious. Company like this makes a shit tonne of money, possible that the benefactor she alluded to in her letter works here?"

"Maybe. That's why we're going to see the owner, a," Isaiah consulted Jon's notes although they were almost illegible, "Damon Hillhurst."

"Named the company after himself, that's a bit vain don't you think? Seems like the kind of guy who would be involved in 'something the world has never seen'."

"Stop speculating," Isaiah reprimanded. "You haven't even met him yet." They stopped in front of a set of double mahogany doors; a gold plaque that read 'Damon Hillhurst' indicated that they had reached their destination.

Ignoring Jon's mutter of 'I was just saying' Isaiah knocked, the sound echoing loudly down the empty corridor.

"Come in," a gruff voice sounded, muffled slightly by the heavy wood.

The Detectives entered Damon Hillhurst's large office, the walls were lined with book shelves, filled with files that dated back to the 1950s, and a large desk sat in the centre, right in front of a window that revealed a perfect view of the surrounding gardens.

The man they had come to speak with sat behind the desk, typing away at a computer. His dark hair was cut short; his piercing blue eyes scanned the screen in front of him. He looked far too young to be the owner of such a large company.

Jon cleared his throat loudly, causing the man to finally look up. He glanced at them quizzically. "May I help you?"

Isaiah flashed his badge. "I'm Detective Sanders, and this is my partner Detective Cartwright. Are you Damon Hillhurst?"

"Yes." His gaze dropped to his lap before returning full force. "Can I ask what this is about?"

"We just want to ask a few questions about a former employee, Anna Baker?"

Damon's shoulder's seemed to sag in relief and he gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk for the Detectives to sit down, clearly not hearing Jon's whisper of 'dodgy fucker'.

Isaiah glanced at his partner, but refrained from scolding him for his immaturity. "Mr Hillhurst, how well did you know Anna Baker?"

Damon leaned forward on the desk, clasping his hands together and leaning his head on them. "Detective, this company employees over one thousand people, spanning across many different departments and three branches. To me she was a name on my payroll."

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