Page 2 of Buried Treasure
"Yeah, our team trainer," he said. "He'll fix me up and give me the same lecture you did about my extracurricular activities."
"Great minds and all that, I guess."
Ryan smirked at her. "He's a good guy who occasionally busts my balls when I get out of line. Kind of like you."
"I would never go anywhere near your balls."
Ryan laughed at her joke, then grimaced and grabbed his side.
"You sure you're OK?" she asked.
"I'm sure," he said, the quiet tone in his voice making her think otherwise. But then he looked up at her with his usual big smile. "That girl is probably gone by now. Get to work or something."
"I'm going." She grabbed her purse from the floor where she had dramatically dropped it and picked up her bagel from the counter. "Let me know if you want to catch up on our Netflix queue tonight."
"Can we watch moreX-Files?"
"Obviously."
If Sydney was going to spend her down time with the rookie, she figured it was best to be a good influence by turning him on to her favorite shows.
"The truth is out there, Barton!"
"Eat your bagel, McCloud," she replied as the door closed behind her.
With her little performance out of the way, Sydney headed for the elevators. When the doors opened on the building's renovated lobby, she couldn't help but smile. She loved this place. First, it was close to work so lots of easy exercise considering she rarely had time to go to the gym in the building. Second, socialite and bestselling author Charlotte Stone had taken over the penthouse. The whole building was sure to go up in value because of that, making it the perfect real estate investment in downtown Detroit.
And if there was one thing that Sydney Barton was great at, it was investing.
Her parents weren't very encouraging of her decision to go to college, but it's where she discovered she actually liked her personal finance classes. After her first month at school, she told them she was going to be a business major. They told her to stop her rebellion. She could have a good life if she came back. It would be nice if she married someone from her small town in the Upper Peninsula and be just like her parents.
Sydney just didn't want that. It never felt like she fit into that kind of life out in the woods. She had friends in high school, but not real friends, and the idea of spending the rest of her life seeing those same people everyday in town made her stomach churn.
So she stayed in college in the Lower Peninsula and figured out how to pay for it without her parents' support. She moved to the "big city" of Detroit and was able to put a down payment on a condo after only living there for a few years. She called her parents on a regular basis like a good daughter, even if it was to hear them tell her again that she could own a nice house on four acres of land for the same price as her place in the city. She also made friends and discovered her favorite places in the city like museums, restaurants and the baseball stadium.
Sydney didn't care that this morning, the wind off the Detroit River stung her cheeks as she trekked the two blocks to her office building in her high heels. She had been here for years now and knew this city was where she should be.
Except she didn't feel the lobby of her office building was where she should be when she finally came in from the cold. Something seemed off this morning. The security guards who usually welcomed her with smiles couldn't look her in the eye. One of them had to override her security card that didn't seem to be working, mumbling something about computer glitches as he pressed the button for her floor before quickly jumping out of the elevator.
Then there were the men in navy blue windbreakers with bright yellow letters who passed her in the hallway. She kept her head down — no need to get the attention of serious people who looked like they were doing some sort of government work on her floor. They must have finally busted the insurance guy down the hall who smelled like pot whenever she got stuck in the elevator with him.
She walked in the front door of her office suite and froze. The government windbreakers were apparently for her. The letters she had ignored in the hallway stood out bright against the dark background: S.E.C. The Securities and Exchange Commission. The officials who arrest you for breaking financial laws were standing in her office suite.
"Ma'am, can I help you?"
She looked up to see a tall man staring down at her. "Who are you?"
"S.E.C." He flashed her an official looking badge without giving his name. "And you are?"
"Sydney Barton. I work here," she said, trying to keep her voice level and strong. "What are you doing here?"
"Don't say another word, Sydney!" came a voice from behind her as her best friend pushed her way into the office waiting area. "Lucy Evans," she said, handing her business card to Mr. No Name. "I'm Sydney Barton's attorney, and she's not answering any questions."
The man took Lucy's card, looked her up and down, and started whispering to the woman standing next to him.
"Ms. Barton," he said, turning back to a stunned Sydney. "Do not leave this spot. Don't go into your office. Don't leave the building. Don't do anything unless we tell you. Do you understand?"
No, she didn't understand. She didn't understand any of it! It was like she walked into this place and was suddenly living someone else's life. This wasn't her office, was it? This wasn't her life. Her skin felt cold, her brain seemed to stop, her legs couldn't move. Nothing about any of this was making any sense.
