I heard the door thud behind me, causing the walls beside it to rumble. Donald was already waiting, his posture perfect. I sighed, holding my wrists together and extending them out into his direction with a knowing smile on my face. He didn't smile back, simply bringing out two familiar pieces of material and tying my wrists together, then wrapping the second piece of material around my eyes.
"I'll try and get you out of here as quickly as possible, Mr Clarke is known for pulling tricks." He whispered quietly, beginning to step forward.
I began walking as well, trying to match his speed. "What type of tricks?"
He paused as if he was considering if telling me was a good decision, "It's not every young woman that he brings in, either to offer information or help in some way, even flee the country..." He started slowly, "But every now and again, he'll order someone like me to wait outside the door to take her back to wherever the meeting point was. However, there have been... times where he wasn't being completely truthful about agreeing to let her go without any sort of payment."
My breath hitched, "Have you ever been one of the bodyguards to one of those young girls?"
He didn't answer, but his silence told me the truth.
"Well then," I said quietly, "We better get a move on before he decides that I'm the next victim."
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We didn't exchange any more words. Simply walking in silence, a disgruntled sigh on my part whenever I tripped or the tight clasp caused my wrists began to hurt a little more than it should.
Donald stopped walking, meaning that we must have arrived back at the original meeting spot. I felt the material slip away from my face, the bright sun blaring into my eyes. I let him untie the material around my wrists. He then took the pieces of material and shoved them into his pocket. Even then, it that precise moment, we said nothing. Locking eyes, I sent him an appreciative nod, one that was quickly returned. he turned away and walked away, his large frame slithered into the shadows. As Donald left my point of view I let out a large breath that I didn't even realise I was holding. I checked my watch, 10:45. There shouldn't be any problem. I had told Bryce that I would arrive at any time between 10:30 and 11:00. But I knew him better than that. I knew that by now he would be worried, probably fuming that I hadn't arrived yet. I looked at the chapel one last time before walking down the street, clutching my bag unreasonably close as I tried to find the best place to get a cab.
I had to walk considerably far. Down multiple side streets until I reached the main road that already had cars slowly driving down. I held my arm out, signalling that I needed a taxi. It took a while for someone to notice me, but eventually, a familiar-coloured car pulled out in front of me. I pulled open the door and sat down. The driver would have only been a couple of years older than me, the only thing I could really see about him was the colour of his hair, a deep brown.
"Where do you want to go?" He asked gruffly,
"MacPherson Music, please," I replied kindly, hoping he wouldn't be one to make conversation.
He didn't say anything in return, but rather restarted the car and pulled onto the road. I didn't pay attention as he drove forward, drove through the cars and closer to where I needed to go.
I was looking out of the window the entire time, only realising where I was when I saw that familiar red bricks. I looked to the front of the building, and sure enough, Bryce was there. But he didn't look how he usually did when he was on the job. His face looked distressed, his eyes were red and his hand was lodged in his hair, ruining his usually perfectly styled hair. He looked... dishevelled.
I felt guilt nip at me. Almost as if his state of panic at transferred to me.
The cab pulled up in front of the building and I immediately say Bruce's head prick up in anticipation. The man extended a hand backwards, mumbling an amount of money. I shoved my hand into my purse before handing over the required cash. I could hear the annoyed honks from the cars behind me as I pushed open the heavy metal door of the cab. Almost as soon as my heels clacked against the cement pathway, the cab disappeared, I could see Bryce standing up, locking eyes with me. I took a deep breath and walked in his direction, trying to ignore the painstakingly worried expression on his pale face. Compared to his long strides, the small steps I was taking towards him were minuscule. The closer he got to me, the easier it was to see his glazed over eyes and tear-stricken cheeks.
"Bryce, what on earth is wr-"
I couldn't even finish my sentence before he wrapped me tightly in his arms, I could feel something wet against my shoulders, tears?
"I thought it was you- oh god, Rosemary, I thought it was you!" He sobbed, his words barely making it out of his mouth.
I pushed him back, holding his face in my hands, "What do you mean? I told you, I would be here sometime between 10:30 and 11:00 since I had errands to attend to, you knew this, so why are you so worried?"
He took a deep breath, funning a hand over his cheek and collecting any remaining tears before flicking them to the ground.
"Our murderer struck again, another young woman, short red hair. Found in an unreasonably public place, tell me that doesn't found familiar, and then maybe you will understand why I was worried." He said quietly, his eyes dejectedly looking at the floor.
I let my hands slip away, "You though..." I trailed off,
he sighed, "Rosemary, I don't think you realise what has happened in the past hour. One of the secretaries run in screaming about how a young girl was found dead. I asked for a description, I was going to write it down and hand it to you when you arrived. She told me what she looked like and then I checked the clock and I genuinely believe my heart stopped. If that had been you, I would have lost my job, and most likely framed for murder since I hadn't come in early this morning, with proof to back that up. You would have been dead and I honestly don't think you understand that you've become a friend. And I would have been utterly, utterly distraught." he explained, his voice cracking at the end, sending daggers of pain stabbing at my heart.
I looked down, "And you would have been framed for murder."
He chuckled sadly, to sadly for comfort, "And I would have been framed for murder."
I stepped back from him and looked up, "Well, as you can see, I'm perfectly fine. Now, let's head inside, see if we can get any more information and then we'll see if anyone on our suspects' list would be willing to have a little chat." A plastered a fake smile on my face.
He nodded glumly, "One, last thing. Where were you? It would make me feel a lot better if I knew."
My fake smile fell, "As I said, let's head inside. Or maybe you can head inside and I can have a quick cigarette, God knows I need one right about now."
He grasped my arm and started dragging, "God knows you'll die if you keep smoking those things, and he also knows how bad you'll feel after it. Let's go back to plan A alright? Since we really do need that information."
I let him drag me away, not wanting to protest against him. "Of course, back to plan A we go Pretty boy,"
Suddenly all that information I had been told became heavy and useless. I didn't have enough bones in my body to count how many times I had felt unreasonably guilty today. So I took a deep breath and headed back into the building, my notepad itching to collect some information that we hadn't collected from a heinous criminal.
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It seemed that the only person who thought I was the newest victim was Bryce. As I stepped into the building, not one person lingered on my figure just a little too long, no one considering why I was here, nor why my unreasonably alive body was now roaming the halls. It wasn't strange for me to come in hours late, that was before my career had skyrocketed itself. Before releasing my biggest hits, I would turn up halfway through the day and leave with the main crowds. Not anymore. the whisperers of people around me were echoing in my ears,
'This is unbelievable!'
'What is this, the fourth murder we've had? They are getting more frequent and honestly? More violent.'
'I heard that the government won't have the funds to actually find this person, there are only one or two professional policemen on the search team,'
'There's a rumour that all these murders have been connected with MacPherson Music.'
"I had a dream last night that my agent Emily Smith, yes, she's Rosemary Hughes agent as well, anyway I had a dream that she was next. God, it was awful! I couldn't sleep for the rest of the night!'
'Apparently, Rosemary is trying to figure out who the murderer is with that gorgeous bodyguard of hers, No! I'm serious! I think it's because of her and Klaus Richards were secretly dating. She was so devasted about his death, I mean, its the only reason! We all saw how she was the day after the news came out.....'
It was just to easy to ignore them. I walked through the bustling, whispering crowds towards my working cubicle. Bryce followed in suit, sitting on the chair in the corner that he always seemed to occupy.
"It couldn't have had anything to do with me," I stated, Bryce, lifted an eyebrow,
"I'm not saying you're the secret motive behind this whole thing, but I saw how you were with that Dorothy girl. That girl that was killed? She looked even more like you then Dorothy did."
I rolled my eyes, "Way to make me feel better, what I mean is that this is the second time. She wasn't killed because she looked like me since whoever this murderer is doesn't want to make the same mistake twice." I explained carefully, trying not to sound too insensitive.
"I have a feeling that you already have an idea of why this girl was killed?" Bryce murmured quietly.
I nodded, my lips stuck in a firm line, "I think they're onto us."
"What?" Bryce spluttered,
"I think that they killed her to show that they know what we are trying to do and that they know what we're trying to prove."
Bryce looked down, "Don't you think that's a little farfetched?"
I shook my head enthusiastically, "No! Not at all actually. Look, we've both confirmed that this case has to do with MacPherson Music, and there is a pretty big chance that, in reality, the murderer is someone from here, someone who wants to take the company down from the inside or something quite similar."
Bryce ran a hand through his hair, "You're right, we have confirmed that. So why do you think that they are onto us?" His voice lowered to nothing more than a whisper
"Because if that murderer does actually work at MacPherson? Then it wouldn't really surprise me if they had seen how I've reacted in the past to the news of someone's death. Almost immediately after that, I'm so emotionally unstable that it's not even funny. So unstable, in fact, that you wouldn't be able to tell me apart from a soldier dealing with shell shock." I explained, "They're trying to throw us off our rhythm, send us behind, break our streak, put us back to square one."
Bryce looked at me as if I had gone insane, He took a deep breath and leaned back, "You're the boss, Rose, what do you want to do?"
"We show them that it doesn't affect us. It won't take long for an autopsy to be released to the public, since the body was found so publicly most people would have heard about it by now. Which means the newspaper will feel obligated to inform us every nitty-gritty detail about what happened." I explained quickly,
"And what about in the meantime?" Bryce asked,
I smiled, "I think it's time a certain boy band received a visit. From us."
He smiled back, "Another interview?"
"They might know this girl, there's a possibility that if she was a fan of a musician - which still ties her in with this business - she was probably a fan of them. They were next on my list anyway." I told him, my brown eyes sparkling.
Bryce stood up, "I'll go see how quickly I can get them in that meeting room,"
I clicked my tongue, "That's my sidekick, I'll write up some questions. You let me know what happens on your side as soon as you know."
He mocks saluted, "You got it, boss."