Grim Reaper 01 - Embrace the Grim Reaper

desk drawers.
    “But we’ve got to look. And we know things are on the computer.”
    A box came up on the screen asking for a password. Casey looked to Eric, but he shook his head. “I have no idea what it is.”
    Casey examined Yvonne’s desk, and the photos of her family. “What are her kids’ names?”
    “Joshua and Caitlin, but why would she—”
    “It’s what people usually do.” But not this person, apparently. Casey tried every combination of the names she could think of. “Okay. Husband’s name?”
    “Jimmy.”
    No good.
    Casey turned with mounting desperation to the final photo on the desk, one of two Doberman Pinschers taking up an entire sofa. They looked a lot sweeter there than they’d seemed back at the house. “Pets.”
    Eric sighed heavily, his face creased with irritation. “I don’t know. How am I supposed to know that?”
    Casey grabbed the frame and slid out the cardboard, exposing the back of the photo. “Roxie and Jabba at Christmas.” It was worth a try.
    Seven long minutes later she hit it with “JoshJabCaitRox.”
    “Guess Jimmy’s the fifth wheel,” Eric muttered.
    But Casey didn’t care about that. She searched the computer for anything that said, “Marlowe.”
    There was nothing there.
    “But we saw it,” Eric said. “Right on the screen.”
    “Well, it’s not here anymore.”
    Casey sat back, looking over the computer toward Karl’s door. “We have to get in there.”
    “I don’t have a key.”
    “I know. But that’s where the information is.”
    “Casey—”
    She got up and went to Karl’s door, examining it. Assuming there was a way to get in, there was probably an alarm set to go if anyone entered. “You’re sure your key doesn’t work?”
    He came over and tried to put his key in the lock. It didn’t fit.
    Casey studied the door some more. It was wooden, not steel. She placed her hand on it. It was made of good quality wood, but it was also paneled. The insets would be weak points. All hell would break loose if she did what she was considering, but if they were quick enough…
    “Be ready to move, Eric.”
    “What? What are you doing?”
    Casey took a deep breath and sat back on her left leg. She focused on the door, the upper section of the lower right panel, closest to the doorknob.
    “Casey…” Eric’s voice rose.
    She ignored him, and snapped her foot at the door. A loud crack ripped through the office.
    “Casey!”
    She kicked the door again, and once more, until the panel broke free from the door’s skeleton. She pushed the panel out and squeezed her arm through, unlocking the door from the other side. The door scraped open, crooked on its hinges. Casey stood in the opening, surveying the office. No security measures were immediately apparent, but she had no doubt they were there.
    “Come on, Eric.” She strode into the room and approached the file cabinets along the side wall. They were labeled clearly, and she went for the one holding L-M. Of course there was nothing inside with the name Marlowe.
    Eric stood in the middle of the room. “What should—”
    “Check his desk.”
    “The drawers are all locked. But the desk is wooden.” He looked at her expectantly.
    “I can’t kick apart everything, Eric. Here.” She grabbed Karl’s letter opener from the desk and handed it to Eric. “See what you can do with this.”
    He stared at it for a moment before going after the lock on the top middle drawer.
    Casey turned back to the files. There were too many to go through in the few minutes they had. What else would it be under? Dryer ? Lawsuit ? We’re Screwed?
    Eric cried out. “Got it!” He yanked the top desk drawer open.
    “That was fast.”
    “Cheap lock.”
    He rifled through the contents of the drawer and came up with a key, which he shoved into one of the other drawers. It opened. Casey began going through that one while he opened the drawer on the other side.
    She flipped through the contents. Folders for insurance, lawyers, Mexico… Marlowe . She pulled it out and slapped it open, resting it on the drawer. The top paper was the first page of the contract. The one they’d seen on Yvonne’s computer. She skimmed the document, searching for key words. As she read, the room fell away from her, and her blood turned to ice in her veins.
    “Casey?” Eric looked at her across his drawer.
    She blinked, slowly turning to him. “It was a child.”
    “A child? How old?”
    “Two.”
    Eric stared at her blankly.