Carol Ericson - Locked, Loaded And Sealed

“Damn.” She must’ve swept them up by mistake in her rush to leave the office. She checked the time on her cell phone clutched in her hand, and grimaced. She’d planned to leave work a little early so she could get ready for her date tonight, but Dr. Fazal had wanted her to look up something for him and one thing had led to another, which it usually did with Hamid, including a stop at the pharmacy on her way out. Now she had to return these files to him since he was burning the midnight oil and might need them.

She hadn’t disappointed her mentor’s faith in her yet and didn’t plan on starting now. His belief in her these past months had been the highlight of her year—hell, the highlight of her sorry life.

She grabbed the folders, shoved the rest of the stuff back into the canvas bag and slammed the trunk shut. As she turned with the folders pressed to her chest, a car squealed around the corner from the parking level above hers.

She jumped back, coughing on the exhaust the old beater left in its wake. The car had sped past her and was already too far down the aisle for its driver to benefit from a choice hand gesture from her, so she just shook her head.

Grinning, she shoved that hand into the pocket of her sweater. Dr. Fazal had been helping her curb her temper, too. In fact, the doctor had been like the father she’d never had. So, she had no problem going back up to the office to return his files—even if it did make her late for her date.

She hadn’t been having much luck with the guys from that internet dating site anyway, although she had high hopes for Tyler.

The elevator settled on her floor, and she stood to the side as the doors opened in case anyone was coming out, not that she expected people hanging around the office building at this late hour. Dr. Fazal stayed late most nights.

Due to the emptiness of the building, the elevator car sped upward without stopping once. Sophia got off on the fourth floor and almost tripped over Norm’s bucket.

Two doors down from the elevator, Norm looked up from his mop. “Sorry, Sophia. I thought you just left.”

“I left a while ago, but I had to make a stop at the pharmacy downstairs and then got all the way to my car before I realized I forgot something. I’m assuming Dr. Fazal is still here.”

“I just got up to this floor. Heard someone on the stairs a little while ago, and thought it was you. Maybe it was the doc.” He returned to his bucket and dredged the mop in the soapy water. “Make sure you walk where it’s dry.”

“I will.” She jingled her office keys in her hand as she made a wide berth around the wet linoleum.

Maybe Dr. Fazal left early tonight, and since he didn’t call her about the files, he hadn’t missed them. He had seemed distracted all day, for a few days actually, so maybe he’d decided to call it quits.

She strode to the last office on the left, where Dr. Fazal had his orthopedic practice. Leaning into the door, she tried the handle first. He’d locked up since she left.

“Dr. Fazal?” She tapped on the heavy door. Then she inserted her key and pushed it open.

He’d turned off the lights in the reception area, but a glow beyond the front desk area gave her hope. “Hello? I’m back.”

She ducked beside a table where someone had fanned out all the magazines from the rack and stacked them together. Ginny from the front desk usually straightened up the reception area on her way out of the office. Sophia dropped the magazines into different slots on the wall rack and opened the door that led to the offices in the back.

The quiet suddenly unnerved her. Hamid must’ve gone home. She stepped through the door and the toe of her shoe kicked something on the floor. She dropped her gaze and her eyebrows collided over her nose as she nudged the stapler with her foot. Licking her lips, she peered around the corner to the front desk area where Ginny ruled the roost during the day.

Her heart slammed against her chest as she jumped back from the chaos that marred Ginny’s typically orderly work area. Someone had whipped open all the drawers, and the contents of those drawers had spilled over onto the floor. The overhead bins yawned open, discharging their contents in a humble-jumble mess.

The hair on the back of her neck quivered, and she twisted her head over her shoulder, almost giving herself whiplash. Were the thieves still here? If they were looking for drugs, they could’ve targeted a better office.

Swallowing hard, she took one step toward Dr. Fazal’s office and the exam rooms and paused with her head cocked to one side. Silence greeted her. They’d either left already or had heard her come in and were lying in wait, ready to pounce.

Her gaze darted to the front door of the office, which had closed behind her. Her street sense told her the thieves had left the scene of the crime. Her street sense was also sending a shiver up her spine.

She crept down the short hallway, trailing her fingers along the wall. She poked her head into exam room one, her jaw hardening. The intruders had rifled through this room, too...and the next.

She continued her stealthy approach to Dr. Fazal’s office. He’d be devastated by the violence perpetrated against his practice. He’d come here to get away from the violence of his homeland.

Holding her breath, she walked into his office. She released the breath with a sputter. Someone had ransacked the room. Papers were strewn all over, sofa cushions were pulled out and hastily stuffed back in place and the drawers of the credenza behind Dr. Fazal’s big desk stood open and half-empty.

These people must be some stupid junkies to think they were going to find drugs in here—but then weren’t all junkies stupid? A heavy smell in the air made her shudder and close her eyes. Reaching for the phone, she stepped around his desk.

She froze. Then she dropped to her knees beside Dr. Fazal crumpled on the carpet next to his chair.

“Dr. Fazal! Hamid!” She curled her arm under his neck to raise his head and blood soaked the sleeve of her sweater. Blood—her subconscious had recognized the smell. One side of Hamid’s head had been blown away. She choked out a sob and her throat burned.

The smell of gunpowder permeated the air. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? She sat back on her heels and another shock jolted her body—a gun lay next to Dr. Fazal’s hand.

“No, no, no.” She shook her head. He never would’ve taken his own life. Why would he mess up his office first?

She closed her eyes and dragged in a long breath. She didn’t like the police, didn’t trust the police, but right now she needed the police.

* * *

THE BOSTON PD COP, Officer Bailey, scratched his chin with the end of his pencil. “It looks like suicide, ma’am. There’s gunpowder residue on the doctor’s hand, the shot to the temple looks like it was done at close range.”

“And the condition of the office?” Sophia brushed the hair out of her face with the back of her hand. “He ransacked his own office, ran back in here and shot himself because he couldn’t find a pencil? That’s ridiculous. And I already told the detective that his computer’s missing.”

“Had you noticed a change in his demeanor lately? Depressed?”

“He was...” She pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to betray Dr. Fazal, but she didn’t want to withhold any information that might help the investigation into his murder—because this was a murder. “He’d been agitated the past few days, distracted.”

“Was anyone hanging around the office? Disgruntled patients? Problems with the wife?”

“Dr. Fazal was a widower. I already told the detectives.”

“You have my card, Ms. Grant. The detectives on the case will have more questions for you later.” He circled his finger around the reception area where he’d been questioning her. The coroner hadn’t removed Dr. Fazal’s body from the office yet. “We’ll finish up here and barricade it as a crime scene. Are you expecting patients tomorrow?”