9

brENDA

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All of this, from the two dead bodies under the tree to the ensuing police investigation, started the moment I decided to leave a gift on Mariah’s desk. The envelope with the photos inside telling her that her husband was having an affair was the catalyst for the craziness that has ensued since. That’s why, as I return to my own desk after a lunch break, I feel my heart skip a beat when I see an envelope waiting for me.

I don’t want to pick it up. I don’t want to know what is inside.

But an envelope has to be opened, doesn’t it?

Especially one with my name written on the front of it.

I do just that, and as I take out the paper inside, I see there is a written message for me.

Thank you for the gift. Please come to see me now because I need to give you one in return.

I stare at the handwritten message and figure it has to have come from Mariah. She’s the only person I gave a gift to, although I suspect she is not referring to the box of chocolates here. She is talking about the photos featuring her husband’s affair. But how does she know I’m the one who gave her that? It was supposed to be a secret. But it seems the secret is out, and worryingly, that’s not all.

She has something to give me.

As I stand up from my chair, my legs feel heavy, and I am wondering if they have the strength in them to carry me to where I need to go. But I manage to start moving, although as I do, I think about the person I am on my way to see.

Mariah.

My boss.

And the person I suspect of murdering Michael and Nat.

I knock on the closed office door before I hear Mariah’s voice telling me to enter. It’s firm, authoritative, strong, as a leader’s voice should be, but I don’t feel any of those things myself as I open the door and walk in.

I find Mariah sitting behind her desk, and she looks relaxed when I enter, as if she was expecting me and also as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. That seems strange considering her husband was recently murdered, but if she did kill him, like I fear, I suppose she wouldn’t be as devastated as she could be. But she could at least try and pretend, right? I assume she pretended with the police, which must be why they seem to have dismissed her as a suspect, but right now, she looks calm and cool, which only serves to make me more anxious.

‘Brenda. Nice to see you. Please, take a seat,’ Mariah says, gesturing to the vacant chair on the other side of her desk, and I close the door before sitting down.

I’m still holding the letter, and when Mariah sees it, she smiles.

‘So you read it,’ she says with a knowing nod. ‘Which means you are here for your gift.’

‘I’m not sure what...’ I start, but Mariah raises a hand, and I fall silent.

‘I know you were the one who put the photos on my desk,’ Mariah says, confirming my worst fears.

‘What photos?’ I try lamely, but Mariah just rolls her eyes, so that prompts me to give up and ask my next question. ‘How?’

‘I use the webcam on my laptop to record important calls,’ Mariah tells me. ‘And it just so happened that I had a call just before we swapped Secret Santa presents. But I’d forgotten to turn the camera off, which meant when I came back to my desk and saw the envelope, all I had to do was check the recording to see who had put it there.’

I can’t believe my bad luck, and Mariah even goes as far as to acknowledge it.

‘You might think that was unfortunate on your part, but I’m glad I know who it was. That way, I can say thank you. You alerted me to my husband’s affair and for that, I will always be grateful.’

The elephant in the room, at least from my point of view, is what Mariah did after she got that information. Did she kill Michael and Nat? I can’t exactly just ask her, can I? What if she says yes? I’d have to tell the police or else I’d be in trouble for withholding information on a crime. But would I even get the chance to tell them, or would Mariah kill me too to silence me?

I decide to say nothing about what might have happened between her, her husband and his mistress, at least not yet, anyway, and instead, mention something else.

‘The note you left on my desk said you had a gift for me,’ I remind her, and Mariah claps her hands together.

‘Yes, that’s right,’ she says. ‘Although, like your gift to me, I am afraid it is bad news.’

I frown. What is she talking about?

‘You remember the Secret Santa present you got?’ she asks me, and I nod.

‘The New York snow globe.’

‘Who do you think bought that for you?’

I’m about to say Kirsty’s name, but Mariah’s expression tells me that assumption would be wrong. But if it was her, it begs the question: how did she know the sentimental value of such a gift?

‘You’re wondering how I could have known the meaning behind what I gave you,’ Mariah says, as if reading my mind, and I nod my head. ‘Well, this is the part where I give you the same bad news you gave me. This is the part where I tell you that your partner was cheating on you.’

I stare at Mariah, horrified that she would even suggest that Paul had been seeing someone else other than me before his death.

‘What are you talking about?’ I cry, feeling disgusted, but Mariah remains calm.

‘I understand this is a shock. Just like it was a shock when I saw the photos you took of Michael and Nat. But I’m afraid it’s the truth. Paul was being unfaithful.’

‘How do you know this?’ I ask nervously, and Mariah pauses before answering me firmly.

‘Because I’m the one he was being unfaithful with.’

The room falls deathly silent as I stare at my boss and try to figure out all sorts of things in a matter of seconds. Is it true? Could it be possible? Could she have been sleeping with Paul?

‘No,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘Why are you saying this?’

‘Because you deserve to know. You gave me the gift of knowledge this Christmas, so I’m returning the favour. I know it’s shocking, and you probably hate me right now, but it is the truth. Paul and I slept together after you brought him to the summer party. You remember, the one on the rooftop.’

I recall the party, that balmy summer night eighteen months ago. I also recall that the partners of employees were invited, which is why I brought Paul along. And of course, I remember introducing him to Mariah, telling him that she was my boss. They shook hands, and he made a joke about having to be on his best behaviour around her. That joke now feels very, very ominous.

‘He’d had a few drinks that night, as had I,’ Mariah goes on as I continue to recoil in horror. ‘We flirted a few times when it was just the two of us, and we made a lot of eye contact during the party when we were separated. I can’t actually remember which one of us said we should swap numbers, but we did, and then we met up privately a week later. I’m sorry, Brenda. I feel terrible, but you deserve to know that he wasn’t the perfect man. Just like I deserved to know Michael was not the perfect man either. The truth is, none of us are perfect, are we?’

I need to get out of this office and maybe even out of this job, so I stand to leave, but before I can go, Mariah says...

‘You did me a favour, and I hope that, in time, you will see that I have done you a favour. If I hadn’t told you, you would have gone the rest of your life grieving that man. But this should make it easier for you to move on. Now you know he was deceitful, so it should make the memory of him feel less painful to you. One day, you will thank me for this, just like I thanked you for leaving the photos on my desk.’

I don’t know what to say to that, and given the delicate situation, I decide it might be best to bite my tongue and not say anything until I have had more time to plan my next move. As for that plan, I intend to just walk out of Mariah’s office and go back to my desk. But just before I do, I pause, and the question comes out of my mouth before I’ve had chance to keep it in.

‘Did you kill them?’ I ask, staring at Mariah and trying to get a read on her.

She stares back at me, not unflinching in her eye contact.

‘Like I said before, thank you for telling me about their affair,’ is all she says, but it’s enough to answer my question.

As I walk back to my desk, I realise several sad things are true.

One, my boss slept with my partner before he died.

Two, my boss is a murderer.

And three, I am stuck here working for her.

But by the time I get back to my desk, I realise I don’t have to be as powerless as I currently feel.

Just like Mariah did when she found out she had been cheated on, I could take action.

I could do something about this.

The only question is what?