Chapter 2

Chapter 2

         Jordan clicked off the light in her office. Her mind was reeling with the realization of what her college professor sent her in the mail. The small book and letter burned a hole in her briefcase as she locked the outer office door. Gary, her assistant, left hours ago. She, however, seemed to be glued to her seat, re-reading the letter from Dr. Wyatt. She reviewed the information he sent to her.
         Dr. Wyatt found a journal from another archeologist, dated around 200 years ago. Well, he was more of a heretic back then. He believed that the statuette of a golden lady existed, and that it bestowed upon its possessor extraordinary powers. Jordan didn’t believe in the magic part, but she did believe that the statue existed. However, she could find only one small reference to it in an early text written during Alexander the Great’s military campaigns. She attempted to recall the details without looking at her notes. But the excitement of receiving the parcel distracted her. Jordan walked slowly out of the building and towards her Range Rover, unaware that she was being watched.
         The figure in the shadows watched Jordan Carmichael open the door of her black Range Rover. He glanced at his watch as her taillights disappeared down the dark street. He had waited for three hours for her to leave her office. The building had cleared out around 5:30 that day, except for the light burning in her office. His leg had become cramped while he crouched expecting her to leave with the others. He cursed her for staying to work late. He tried to curb his impatience, almost ready to give up when he saw the light blink out in her office. Now he had some time to work. He didn’t expect her to be back until Monday.
         He peered around the darkened street, looking for any other late workers or cars to go past. Absolute silence greeted him. He unfolded his lean, lanky body from its crouched and cramping position. He felt his knees and ankles creak, and then a thin snapping sound as they worked the cramp out. He stretched his 6’5 frame, and cracked his neck. This should be a piece of cake, he thought, as he looked more closely at the office building. No security guards he observed, and smiled slowly at the naivete of some people. He felt his blood begin to hum as he approached the building. He was going to steal that damned book.
         The thief casually walked up to the door of Jordan’s building. His gloved hand reached out for the handle and gave it a tug. Locked. He’d expected as much. He let go of the door handle and walked around the building to the back. He passed a large, very smelly, dumpster. I guess Waste Management didn’t consider this prime real estate, and therefore didn’t make regular stops here. He nearly laughed aloud but managed to only emit a low chuckle. He approached the back door, and even from this distance he could see that the lock was broken. He blessed his luck, and slowly opened the door, taking another quick look around to make sure he was alone. Quietly he slipped into the four story building.
         Slowly he made his way up the back stairwell until he reached the fourth floor. He quietly opened the door leading to the hallway, and peeked through. He was certain he was alone in the building, but years of practice made him cautious still. He didn’t want any surprises. The dimly lit hallway was empty. There were dim lights coming from two of the offices on this floor, but he knew they were not occupied. No phones jangled, and no computer keys clacked. He could hear nothing. Confidently he strolled down the narrow corridor, past the accountant’s office, and the private investigator, until he made his way to the last door on the left. The sign read, Myth and Mythology. He smiled broadly as he tested the knob. This door too was locked. He pulled his lockpick set out of his pocket and went to work. Less than five minutes later, he crept inside the archeologist’s outer office. The room was dimly lit by a desk lamp. He passed the front desk and made his way to the partially open door to the rear. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darker room. He scanned the room slowly, hoping that she left the book out in plain sight. Of course she wouldn’t do that. Jordan Carmichael was nothing if not smart. He rifled through her desk, and file cabinets. Anger burned in him as he realized the book was not in her office. Rage made him careless and he began to break the knickknacks in his haste to search the office. Two hours later, he stormed down the block. She had hidden the book!