Claire squinted at the trunk, her gut telling her something was off. The lid was slightly ajar, just enough to make her suspicious. She hesitated for a second before lifting it fully, her eyes widening as a gasp escaped her lips. Stumbling back, she nearly tripped over her own feet, hands trembling.
Matthew, who had been fiddling with something nearby, immediately rushed over at the sound of her gasp. “What happened? Claire, what’s wrong?”
She pointed, too horrified to speak. Matthew followed her gaze, and as soon as he saw what was inside the trunk, his own eyes widened in shock. Lying there, sprawled out awkwardly, was the body of a man.
“Is... is he dead?” Claire stammered, her voice shaking. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight.
Matthew crouched down, squinting as if trying to figure it out from a distance. “I don’t know. I can check.”
He moved to reach for the man’s neck, his hand hovering over where he’d feel for a pulse, but Claire grabbed his wrist, pulling him back. “Wait! What if he’s dead, and your fingerprints are all over him? If the police show up, they’ll think we did this!”
Matthew gave her a look, half frustration, half understanding. “Claire, we need to know if he’s alive. If there’s a chance, we can still save him. If he’s dead, we have to call the cops right away. Leaving him here is going to look even worse.”
Claire bit her lip, torn between panic and logic. She hated that Matthew was right, but she also hated the idea of them being implicated in some gruesome murder scene. After a moment’s hesitation, she let go of his wrist.
“Fine... but just be quick.”
Matthew nodded, steeling himself. His fingers gently pressed against the man’s neck, searching for a pulse. Claire held her breath, eyes wide, waiting for him to say something.
A few tense seconds passed before Matthew pulled his hand back and met her gaze with a hard, grim look. “He’s dead.”
Claire cursed under her breath, pacing in a tight circle, her fists clenching and unclenching. “This is getting out of hand. First the hacking, now this? Who the hell is doing this to us?”
Matthew stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans as if the mere act of touching the body made him feel unclean. “I know. But we need to stay calm. I’m going to call the police. If we leave this here and someone finds it later, they’re going to think we killed him.”
Claire nodded, though her eyes kept flicking back to the man’s body, no matter how much she tried to avoid looking. Matthew had his phone out, dialing emergency services, while Claire’s gaze lingered on something odd sticking out of the dead man’s suit pocket.
A letter.
She swallowed, unsure if she should reach for it, but curiosity got the better of her. Slowly, she leaned in and pulled the letter out, trying not to disturb anything else.
Matthew, now off the phone, turned back to her. “The police will be here soon. What’s that?”
Claire glanced at the paper in her hand, frowning in confusion. “I don’t know. It’s... just a letter.”
She unfolded it, her brow furrowing deeper as she read what was inside. Or rather, what wasn't inside. “It’s... just a number. A phone number, that’s it.”
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: New beginning: Billionaire love story (Claire and Alex)
What's with the loose spelling gotta try n figure out the sentence....