Page 50 of Logan
I knew I should have taken the extra few minutes’ walk to the coffee shop I like on the way to work, but that’s what you get for half-assing it and going to a different place. I take the short flight of stairs to the second floor where our offices are and pass by reception. Molly isn’t there, but Deidre has her head down as I round the desk. I got them both a coffee, but didn’t bother asking Ryan because I’m petty like that.
“One pumpkin latte with extra foam, and an extra hot caramel Americano,” I say, sliding the tray onto the desk, and then I freeze.
Blood.
A lot of blood. It’s dripping off the desk and onto the floor.
“Deidre?” I gasp, my own cup falling from my free hand as it crashes to the floor, spilling everywhere. I push Deidre back from her slumped position and there’s a bullet hole straightthrough the middle of her forehead. I jump back, falling over myself as my brain tries to catch up with what I’m seeing.
Deirdre is dead. Deidre has been shot.
Then I hear it.
Gunfire.
Holy fuck!
It’s close. In fact, I barely have time to register as I hear the screaming coming from the offices beyond the corridor.
I turn, diving toward the nearest door, which is our conference room, as I crawl under the desk with shaking hands. I dial 911. I can’t even get the words out, but somehow manage to finally give them the address. The operator asks me a whole bunch of questions but I hang up.
Fuck!
For some reason my fingers scroll through my phone and text Logan. I can’t think straight so I type SOS.
A few messages fly back and forth, then a couple of seconds later, he’s dialing me.
Answer.
Answer. Fucking answer!
I’ve never seen somebody dead before, and Deidre… holy shit. Tears leak from my eyes and I can’t stop shaking as I tell Logan what happened. He tells me to hide, and I glance around for a better hiding spot. There’s a small cupboard that usually houses the projector screen. It’s out right now because of our meeting this afternoon, so I do as he says and pull the doors open and haul myself in. It’s a tight squeeze but I somehow manage it. I hope nobody thinks to look in here. I should’ve made a run for the exit… Then I remind myself the gunfire was coming from that side of the corridor.
I want to dial Molly, find out where she is. A text comes through and with shaking hands I read it.
Logan
Sit tight. Are you hiding?
Me
Yes. In the projector cupboard. It’s small, I hope they don’t look in here
But what if they do? What if they check everywhere?
Me
I’m scared, Logan. They shot Deidre. She’s dead. They shot her point blank
My hands shake again and I almost drop my phone. I feel like I’m going to vomit. I keep seeing her face. The bullet wound. The blood. My colleagues. Molly. Please,I beg,not Molly.
Logan
I’m coming. Everyone is coming. Do you hear anything?
Me
People screaming
