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“Mrs. Croft?”
“Yes, dearie, that’s me. Who is this, please?” the kind voice on the other end of the line asked. Mackenzie took a deep breath.
“This is Mackenzie Ross.”
“Ms. Ross! It’s been so long!” the woman faltered slightly. “How have you been?”
“Well, thank you. And yourself?”
“Fine, just fine. What brings you to call me, dear?” she asked warmly.
“I was hoping to talk to you about something Mrs. Croft. Something important.”
“Alright, go ahead. And please, call me Regine.”
“Thank you.....Regine. I was wondering....If I may be completely candid, do you know if anything shady was going on in my father’s corporation?”
“Good heavens, child! What kind of a question is that?” the old secretary exclaimed.
“Please Regine. I need to know.” Mackenzie pleaded. A sigh sounded on the other end of the line.
“Perhaps if I understood why you ask.” she hesitantly replied.
“Do you remember the car crash that killed my parents?”
“Yes, of course. Terrible, simply terrible. Your father was a wonderful man.”
“Did you read the article about it in the paper?”
Regine thought for a moment. “Yes, I do believe I did. I still have it somewhere in my scrapbook, in fact.”
“Good! Please, is your scrapbook handy?”
“It’s right here, by my chair. I can’t move around much these days, I like to keep everything I need close by.”
“Perfect. Read the article to refresh your memory. I’ll wait.”
“Alright, just let me find my glasses.” The line was silent for several minutes, and while she waited, Mackenzie twisted her hands nervously in her lap. Howie and AJ, who sat nearby, watched her anxiously.
“I’ve read it now.” Regine’s voice came softly over the line. “Foul play. Is that why you need to know if there was anything fishy going on in the corporation?”
Mackenzie sighed in relief. Apparently, the woman had aged, but her mind was still alert. “Yes, that’s exactly why I need to know. Please, can you remember anything out of the ordinary in the weeks or months before my parent’s deaths?”
Once again, silence covered the line, as the older woman thought. “Come to think of it, yes. Your father was very agitated for several days before the accident. I remember asking him what the matter was, but he only shook his head and told me not to bother myself over him.”
“Was there anything else?”
“You’ll have to forgive me, it’s been so long, I have trouble recalling. But, I think that prior to his distressed behavior, he received an odd package in the mail, after which, I distinctly remember him calling Louis into the office. I could hear them yelling at one another all the way out at the front desk! They were very upset.”
“Is there anything else? Did it ever seem as though my father didn’t want you near something? Did you feel like he was hiding something?”
“Why yes. There was a small, locked, file cabinet kept beneath his desk, that I was never allowed to touch, under no uncertain terms. How did you know?”
“I didn’t. Are you aware of what the cabinet contained?”
“Of course not.” Regine replied indignantly. “I never went against an employer’s wishes!”
“Alright, I didn’t mean to make it sound as if you did. Please, do you know where that cabinet is now?” Mackenzie questioned.
“Hmmmm........shortly before the accident, your father had me rent a small storage space for him. It was..... just outside of Chicago, I believe. He instructed me to pay the rent for it up until the year 2000. Your father never told me what he planned to do with the unit, but I suppose the file cabinet might be in there. It was missing the day after I phoned Westville Mini Storage.”
“Thank You! Thank You so much Regine!”
“I’m glad I could help you, dear. You call me again if you need me, alright? Perhaps you could come to tea!” The aged woman invited.
“I will. Thanks again!” Mackenzie beamed into the phone, and disconnected.
*****
“This is it?” AJ asked skeptically.
“It would seem so.” Howie sighed. Mackenzie consulted the map in front of herself.
“This is Westville, and the only storage facility in town is the one before us, aptly named, ‘Westville Mini Storage’.” she replied wryly.
“How do you know the old woman wasn’t lying?” AJ asked, playing the cynic. Howie shot him an exasperated look.
“Didn’t we go over this already? I ran a background check on Mrs. Croft through several different search engines on the computer. She your typical retired woman: lives in a retirement villa, plays bridge, and spends her days shopping at Nordstrom’s. Her banks accounts are rather hefty for an old lady, but contain no where near the sum a corporation would bring.”
AJ raised his eyebrows. “My father paid his employees quite generously, AJ.” Mackenzie reassured. He shrugged; Howie led the way toward the dilapidated office. He tugged open the warped door, which sported a crack in it’s window pane, and let Mackenzie precede him into the small room. A crusty old man behind the counter rose from his chair. He said nothing, but starred with a hard squint at the three figures who entered his office. Mackenzie cleared her throat.
“Hello.” she said, with a semblance of composure. The old man grunted in response. “My name is Mackenzie Ross. My father rented a storage unit here, and I’ve come to collect some of his things.”
The man’s eyes appraised her, and pursed his lips. “That’d be Michael Ross, ain’t it?” She smiled with relief.
“Yes. That’s right. Michael Ross was my father. May I have the key to the unit?”
“Not so fast, missy. You gotta prove you is who you say you is.” he snarled.
“Here. This is my driver’s license. I’m afraid it’s all I have.” The man reached out, and snatched the card away from her, adjusting the glasses on the tip of his nose.
“What ever happened to your daddy’s dog, Miss Ross?” he asked. Mackenzie frowned in confusion. My father never had a dog. The only pet he ever had was a chameleon. He kept it in his home office.” she replied.
Finally, he handed the card back, a slight smile creasing his weathered face, and motioned with his hand. “This way, Miss Ross. the name’s Ray.” he said in a respectful tone. “Sorry ‘bout that, but your father said to make sure that when you came, you would be the real Miss Ross. Said no one but family knew ‘bout the chameleon.”
“Yes, that’s true.” she acknowledged. Ray stopped suddenly.
“These two men comin’ along too?”
“Yes. It’s alright, they’re close friends of mine.” she assured him. He nodded his head.
“Come on then.” Ray led them through a winding path of storage units, finally stopping at the last row, the furthest back from the entrance of the storage facility. “This is it.” he said, gesturing toward a rusty rolltop door. He handed her the key to the unit. “I ‘spect you want to be left alone. I’ll be in the office.” With that, he turned and stalked away, following the path they had come from.
Howie looked at her. “Are you going to open it?” he asked. Mackenzie reached for the pad lock on the side of the door, which bolted it closed. She inserted the old key into the ancient lock, and twisted. It sprung open, and she removed the chunky lock. AJ and Howie leaned down, and grasped the two handles on the base of the rolltop door. With a screech of rusty metal, they pushed the door up.
Inside, boxes upon boxes were stacked along the side walls of the space. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, across the walls, and draped over boxes, in all their dusty glory. Howie stretched up, and yanked on the chain which dangled from somewhere above them. An old 75 watt bulb illuminated the area. Mackenzie moved toward the closest box, and lifted it’s lid. She pulled one of the files from the box, and glanced at it’s title. “1991” it read. She opened it, and began to skim the pages. Howie and AJ followed suit, each working on a different part of the room.
An hour later, AJ looked up from his seventh box. “This is nuts! There’s nothing here but old files on company business. It’s not even useful info! All I’ve run across are facts and figures for the company’s gross annual income!” he exclaimed. Howie sighed.
“I hate to say it, but I agree. All of the boxes over here contain employee records.”
“Guys? I think I found something.” Mackenzie’s voice came faintly from the the very back of the room. The two men made their way toward her, and found her yanking several boxes from a tall pile in the corner. “Help me!” she commanded. AJ and Howie shrugged, then began assisting Mackenzie in removing the pile to another area of the unit. It was evident when they were halfway down the stack, that the boxes had served to build a wall of sorts around a hollow space against the back corner. They had offered the illusion of a solid pile, while the other content of the unit was simply a diversion. Working quickly, the three finished their task, which revealed a small fling cabinet. Silence enveloped them, as they starred at the rectangular chunk of metal, standing two drawers tall. AJ was the first to move, and tugged at the top drawer.
“It’s locked.” he stated grimly. Howie sighed and turned away.
“So, what? We’ve come all this way to find a freaking locked file cabinet in a rusty, rundown storage unit?” he exclaimed, exasperated. AJ kicked the cabinet, and followed Howie outside, to get some air, hoping to relieve some of the tense disappointment that pooled up inside of him. The horrendous sound of metal scraping against metal sounded from inside the unit. Glancing at one another, alarm etched on their faces, they hurried back inside.
Mackenzie swung again, not bothering to aim. “Open up, dammit! I hate you! Why did you have to be locked!” she screamed, and hauled off to slam the ax against the file cabinet once more. She grunted as the ax made contact. “Open up!” she screamed again. “I hate you! I hate you for killing my father! I hate you for killing my mother!” she continued to beat upon the cabinet, leaving dents in it’s surface. Howie rushed up behind her, and stopped her in mid swing. He grabbed her around her waist, and held her close to him. The ax fell from her limp fingers, and she turned to sob into his chest.
“Shh....Mackenzie....” he murmured comfortingly. He had been waiting for this to happen, for her breakdown. Mackenzie tried so hard to keep up a brave front, and now, her walls were finally crumbling. AJ moved to the file cabinet, and let out a low whistle.
“Girl, just don’t ever direct your anger at me, alright? You beat the damn thing open.” Howie and Mackenzie pivoted at his words.
“It’s open?” she whispered through her remaining tears.
“Yeah. Come and see.” he invited. The top drawer of the cabinet pulled open, sticking a little because of a dent in the side of it. Howie cast his eyes heavenward.
“Thank You.” he muttered, then joined AJ, not letting go of Mackenzie’s hand.
“Where’d you find the ax, anyway?” AJ inquired. Mackenzie gestured toward a dusty corner of the unit. Howie rolled his eyes at AJ’s curiosity, and brought their attention back to the matter at hand.
“Let’s see what we’ve got.....”
*****
Mackenzie couldn’t sleep. To spite the fact that she lay within Howie’s comforting arms, she was having trouble actually drifting off. Finally, when she couldn’t stand lying there, starring at the ceiling any longer, Mackenzie slipped quietly from Howie’s grasp. He grunted slightly, and rolled over.
The thoughts swirling through her head, keeping her awake, could only be releived by satisfying her curiosity. Mackenzie crept toward her duffle bag, and pulled a small black leatherbound book from it. The book had been the only object located in her father’s filing cabinet. This fact had keenly disappointed the three at the time of their discovery. It seemed much to small a result for all of their efforts. Mackenzie took the book and stole over to the west side of their suite, opening the french doors which let out onto a balcony. Mackenzie tugged a blanket around herself and settled into one of the balcony chairs positioned close to the wall. The wind was blowing west, which saved her from it’s icy fingers, as she sat beneath the night sky.
Micki gently turned back the cover of the book. It was her father’s diary. The starting date was June 23, 1995. She began to read......
“I know not what brings these forces against me, but nevertheless, they are here. I cannot put my finger on it, but something is not quite right. I feel as though I must look over my shoulder every time I round a corner, hoping to find myself very much alone and unbothered.
I have noticed that several things are ‘off’ (for lack of a better word) within the paperwork of the corporation. In the last batch of printouts, I noticed that our gross annual income was far too low. I could not believe the figures listed, and confessed my worries to Marty. He promised to check into them. I have yet to hear back from him.
Did you know, Mackenzie turned 18 today? I told her, she may be legal, but she will always be my little girl. She laughed and whined ‘Oh, Dad!’.”
That was the end of the entry, but another began on the opposite page.....
“July 18, 1995: I become more watchful as every day passes. I fear that I am missing something, and find myself checking and double checking my work. Still, I have the distinct feeling that something is wrong. A feeling of deep foreboding resides within me.
A file was missing from my desk today. I set it down, and stepped out of my office for a moment to relieve myself. When I returned, not two minutes later, it was gone. Am I going crazy? I thought I might be, so I checked the file drawer. It was not there. Neither was it on the desk, nor anywhere around it. Normally, I would not throw such a fuss, but it was a file of articles that I had collected. The collection was of a universal topic: the leakage of illicit computer software into the black market. I compiled this folder, in an attempt to learn more about how such products are introduced to the market, hoping to prevent that from ever happening to Mobey Enterprises. Was it stolen? If so, by whom? Such questions plaugue me long into the night.”
“August 5,1995: My anxiety increases, though I am not sure why. Since I have begin to feel this way, nothing has physically happened to me to cause me alarm. However, strange things do continue to occur in the office.
Another file is missing. This one, a master file containing a complete listing of all of my assets. Why would someone want such a thing? Or, rather, have I misplaced it and am jumping to conclusions? I must be out of my mind.......”
“September 30,1995: Mackenzie is currently enrolled in Chicago University. I am so proud of her. She applies herself to most everything she does, and I am thankful that she is mine. I wonder if I will live to see her wedding day? Miranda and I had Mackenzie when we were already on in years, and I am 58 years old today. I look at my life, and ponder my accomplishments. I hope that Micki will be happy telling her children of their grandfather. I envision her weaving stories about me, some true, some the result of wishful thinking. Her husband had better be good to her, or I swear it, I will come back from the grave to haunt him. But, why? Why do my thoughts turn so morbid?
Perhaps it’s because it is because I recieved a mysterious package in the mail today. It was an invitation to join a new corporation. The company was called ‘New leaf Enterprises’. Supposedly, it’s a co-op made up of select companies all over the world, to create a elete market open only to it’s members. When I read the fine print and researched it, I realized that it was nothing more than a branch of the black market. Of course, I turned it down. Can you believe that someone actually suggested I join such a farce? I practically bit his head off. He claimed that he was only looking for alternative ways to invest our funds. I told him he was a fool.
“October 16,1995: Someone is embezeling money from the firm. Sadly enough, I think I even know who. I hesitate to write his name, as if doing such a thing might make it real. How could he do this to me? I have trusted him for so long, he has been my advisor on every count. I will confront him tomarrow. That is the one thing which sets positively in my mind.”
Mackenzie closed the book, as nothing more than sorrowfully blank pages followed that final entry. With a start, she realized that the last page was dated the day before her parents died in the car crash. Her hands caressed the leather cover, her heart feeling as though it were going to burst. She longed to cry out, but no tears came, and not a sound left her throat. Mackenzie only starred unseeingly at the city skyline of Chicago.
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