She moved to Mr. Covington's desk. Nothing in the top drawer but several gold pens. The second drawer was full of blank white printer paper. Ariana was about to slam it shut when something out of place caught her eye. The corner of a piece of parchment paper, ivory, shoved into the center of the pile. Completely different from the rest of the pages in the stack.
Curious, Ariana dug the page free. There was writing at the top, only three words. Ariana squinted and held it up to the moonlight pouring through the window behind her. Her heart seized as the writing came into focus.
My dear Kaitlynn,
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Ariana could hardly breathe. Someone had started a letter to Kaitlynn on this very page. Ariana studied the lettering. It was totally androgynous. Could have been a man or a woman. Maybe Briana Leigh had started to write to her friend in prison. An apology letter perhaps? Briana Leigh had already professed a preference for writing actual letters. It would have been poetic to write this particular missive in the office of the man she had murdered. The man at the center of the entire mess between her and Kaitlynn. Maybe she had made a start, lost her nerve, and stashed this here to come back to later.
Ariana slipped the unfinished letter back into the center of the paper stack where she had found it, just in case Briana Leigh decided to finish unburdening her heart. She didn't want the girl to find it was missing and get suspicious.
Taking a deep breath, she powered on the computer. Right on the desktop was a direct link to the Bank of Central Texas. Ariana smiled and double clicked the link. Of course, she needed a password to get in to the accounts. Quickly, Ariana tried the most obvious choices. Briana Leigh's name. Her mother's name. Her grandmother's name. None of them worked.
"Birthdays... birthdays... ," she whispered, the bluish glow of the screen lighting her face. "Briana Leigh, four, fifteen."
She typed it in, and the bank's welcome screen greeted her.
"Yes! Yes, yes, yes," Ariana breathed, her heart pounding with excitement.
She placed her hand on the mouse and closed her eyes, letting the full force of her triumph wash over her. She could only imagine the
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huge dollar amounts that were going to greet her on the next screen. This was it. She was about to find out exactly how rich she was going to be.
Ariana opened her eyes and clicked on "Accounts." The page opened. There was only one account listed. A checking account. Worth $2,401.56.
"What?"
Ariana quickly clicked back and tried again. The same number greeted her. She scanned the page, looking for links to savings accounts or CDs or money market accounts. Anything. But there was nothing. Nothing but the tiny little checking account.
Her fingers gripped the mouse so tightly it slipped from her grasp. This wasn't right. It could not be right. Briana Leigh had millions. Hundreds of millions.
"Okay. Okay. Take a deep breath," Ariana told herself. "Maybe it's in a different bank. This must just be her petty cash account. You just have to keep looking."
She logged off the website and checked the desktop for other financial links. Nothing. Nothing in the recent browser history either.
"Dammit," Ariana said under her breath. She had been so close. So sure that her search was over. Where the hell was the rest of the money?
A footfall sounded in the hallway. Heart pounding, Ariana hit the power button and crouched on the floor behind the desk. Waited until the door was opened, then closed. Deciding it must have been one of the staff, Ariana waited another three minutes, counting the
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seconds off in her mind. By the time she was done, the many events of the day had come to rest on her shoulders and she suddenly felt exhausted.
Standing up straight, she stretched her arms over her head. It was three a.m. Time for a well-deserved rest. Tomorrow, the search would continue.
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THE PROVERBIAL NAIL
The shaft of sunlight hit Ariana square in the face like a well-placed slap. Her temples were pierced with pain and she rolled away from the windows, squeezing her eyes even tighter."Time to get up, lazybones!" Briana Leigh trilled. She slapped Ariana on the ass and Ariana's eyes popped open.
You can't kill her. You cannot kill her.But she couldn't bring herself to force a smile, either.
"You're in a good mood," she said as Briana Leigh bounced into view. She was wearing lime green terry shorts with a white side stripe and a matching workout tank. Her auburn hair was back in a French braid, her sunglasses perched atop her head. How was this girl not hungover? She had drunk enough to level any respectable truck driver--and his wife. Ariana had sucked down all of three drinks and her head was pounding like a bass drum.
"Teo and I had a long talk and everything's going to be fine," Briana