The Coworker

by Freida McFadden

As strange as Dawn’s schedule is, it’s even stranger that today she isn’t following it. I can’t help but think that Dawn’s absence must signify something ominous. After all, Dawn is never late. Never.

Kim Healey is my best friend at work, which sadly means that she’s my best friend in general since work has increasingly become my entire life.

And what’s with her obsession with turtles? Like, who is that into turtles?”

When I rest the turtle back on my desk, there’s a stain on my fingers. Something dark red rubbed off on my hand when I picked up the turtle.

“Hello?” I say. “Is anyone there? More silence. Just when I’m about to hang up, two words are spoken in a tortured female voice that send an icy chill down my spine: “Help me.” And then the line goes dead.

Seth Hoffman has been the manager of the Dorchester branch of Vixed since before I started working here.

I notice the wedding band he always wears on his left fourth finger is gone. Recently gone—there’s a visible tan line. My eyes stray to the photograph he always keeps on his desk of him and his wife Melinda, but that’s gone too.

I could tell from the way Seth was looking at her that he likes her a lot too. She must be excellent at her job.

Whatever else you can fake, it’s hard to fake being a genuinely kind person. It’s also exceedingly rare.

I used to get calls like that all the time, sometimes with just silence, but sometimes with a string of threats on the other line. But I haven’t gotten a call like that since… well, it’s been several months. I doubt it’s that same person—they have no reason to hate me anymore.

Detective Santoro leans forward like he’s about to tell me a secret. “So the thing is, we found your fingerprints on a knife at Miss Schiff’s house.”

I pick up my phone from where I dropped it on the sofa next to me. I stare at the screen, which is black. The truth is, there’s only one person I want to talk to right now. But I shouldn’t. I really, really shouldn’t. Then again, making stupid decisions is my specialty.

I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.

The note was written in red ink. Scribbled, really. The handwriting was messy but large enough that it was easy to read what it said: If you touch my husband again, I will kill you.

From Seth's wife!

If you touch my husband again, I will kill you. The message was written by Seth’s wife.

After all, there’s nothing that binds two people like a shared secret.

But today, his words leave me shaken. You’re a lying bitch.

Also, I’m going to need a little extra money this month. About $2,000 should cover it, but more would be better.

You really can’t afford an extra two thousand dollars after all I put up with from you?

Not only that, but she started pressuring me to give her more money. Did I tell you that I’ve been sending my mother checks every month? Just enough to help her get by now that my father is gone.

Also, I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but don’t give your mother any more money! And for God’s sake, don’t ask her for advice!

“So you were saying you didn’t meet with Dawn on Monday night about the money she found missing from the Vixed account?”

I have discovered something very unsettling and I need your advice on how to deal with it: There’s money missing from the company.

All of the account discrepancies are around sales that Natalie made. Not tiny sales, like a few boxes of product. But large sales to huge companies, where a few thousand dollars could potentially get overlooked.

From: Natalie Farrell Subject: Re: Tonight I’ll be there! There’s one other thing I need to take care of tonight but I don’t think it will be a problem.

“Natalie Farrell.” His voice is flat. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Dawn Schiff.”

I’ve been watching the news all morning. Over and over. I can’t get enough of it. That moment when the detective steps out of the crowd and tells Natalie she’s under arrest.

But I had to leave my phone behind at my house. There was no other choice.

And if she knew what I was up to, she would turn me in herself.

I’ve kept it bandaged since Monday, when I made the cut that created all that blood on the floor of my living room.