Page 24 of The Attraction File

“Now that you are here, Mr. Mimir, I can ask you about Ashton Graham. What can you tell us about him?” Mackeson asked while scratching at his stubble.

Edgar gave them the typical response to any good employee. Telling them Ashton never had tardy or absentee issues. That the two years he had been working here he was social and appeared to enjoy his job. I agreed with Edgar on the areas I knew about.

“Would you have any reason to be concerned about Ashton Graham’s private life?” Hardy lifted her head from the notes she took on her white pad of paper and stared at Edgar.

“What? No. I knew he didn’t have any family. He was raised by elderly parents who died about a year before he began working here. I never really asked him about his personal life because I never saw anything that would cause me concern,” Edgar said.

Tardy turned her head to me. “How about you, Ms. Bechmann? Did you find Mr. Graham’s actions cause you concern about his personal life?”

What on Earth was this about? Did they think Ashton was some terrorist wanting to take over the government?

“I don’t ask anyone about their personal life, even my friends. It’s none of my business. Why would I ask an employee I rarely saw?”

Detective Hardy’s eyes widened before she turned her head to her partner. They both nodded at each other. Mackeson sat forward, clasping his hands on the table.

“Okay then. Maybe there was something else going on? Did you think he might have had a relationship, a personal one if you know what I mean, with someone here.” His eyebrows wiggled just before he winked at me.

Anger and bile rose in my throat and I couldn’t bring myself to answer his ridiculous question.

“I don’t mean to imply anything, Ms. Bechmann—”

“Then don’t. I take this job very seriously. I respect where I work too much to jeopardize myself or anyone else who works here by some silly infatuation. If there were any emotions involved they were very one sided, and I knew nothing about them. Office romances only cause trouble.”

I felt I made my point. When people followed their heart so many mistakes could happen. That’s why I only used my brain to make decisions.

“Obviously. Yes, Ms. Bechmann.” Detective Mackeson nodded as Hardy reached for her coffee and took a sip. Her shoulders began to shake.

I also noticed Mackeson glanced down at the folder before his shoulders started to shake too.

They were laughing at me. Apparently hard work and dedication to an employer was funny to them.

I lifted my finger and pointed at them. “Look, if you two think this is so fun—”

Heat traveled up my arm as Edgar’s hand clasped mine, lowering it back down. “What I think Evaleen is trying to say is we are just as perplexed as you two as to why a good employee would just disappear. We would like to help you anyway we can to get to the bottom of it. Evaleen and I really hope he is okay.”

The detectives composed themselves. As they were sifting through their paperwork, I realized Edgar was still holding my hand.

Normally I would quickly remove my hand from his because it just made me want to touch him even more. But it was soothing. The accusations from the cops didn’t seem so upsetting anymore. I even smiled realizing how much I overreacted to them.

Edgar caught my grin and removed his hand.

I frowned. I guess he couldn’t have dowdy Evaleen have feelings for him.

“Would you both take a look at this photograph? Tell us what it may mean to you.”

It was an image of Edgar smiling at the camera.

I straightened in my seat and glanced over at Edgar. The look on his face was one I would never forget. Disgust, maybe even humiliation, but definitely the complete opposite of his appearance in the image.

“Was this a recent photograph?” Mackeson’s deep voice echoed in my ear as I stared at Edgar. He didn’t look at me, focused solely on the picture. He was probably trying to remember when it was taken. Wondering which sexy woman he had fooled around with had taken it.

It wasn’t a sexy woman, it was just me.

My eyes began to burn and I knew tears weren’t far behind so I turned my attention back to the detectives. As much as I willed my voice to return, I knew if it did the tears would give way.

I took a deep breath and opened my mouth, but it was Edgar who answered their question.

“No. I remember it was a Friday night in July, about four years ago.”

Closing my eyes, I prayed he wouldn’t continue. It took until that moment, in front of the detectives, to realize maybe it was best if I remained invisible to Edgar.

“Who took the picture, Mr. Mimir?” Hardy asked.

“It was Evaleen. Ms. Bechmann.”

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