"Can't you speed it up, Archer? We've got places to be," Reid grumbled, fidgeting in his seat as Archer methodically counted out the bills to hand over to the waiter. The restaurant was one of those upscale joints where every plate looked like a miniature work of art and the forks probably cost more than Reid's entire wardrobe.
Archer finally finished the transaction with a nod and zero verbal communication, as per usual. He handed a couple of twenties to the waiter as tip, managing to convey gratitude with a simple glance.
"Dude, if I could read minds, I'd probably rule the world by now," Reid quipped, picking up on Archer's silent signals. "But, you know, lacking telepathy," Reid tapped his temple lightly, "did you manage to get the invitation?"
Without a word, Archer slid an embossed invitation across the table—'An Exclusive Dinner Event with Edward Tay.'
Reid raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Nice! I knew I could count on you. You always have a trick up your sleeve, don't you? Although… did your brother helped you snag this golden ticket?"
Archer just looked at him. It was a look that said, 'You really don't want to know.'
Reid chuckled as they left the restaurant. "Mysterious as always, my friend."
They walked over to Archer's car, a sleek, high-end model that probably had more computing power than NASA's first spaceship. Archer smoothly slid into the driver's seat, revving the engine to life, the purr of it vibrating through the air. Reid had to admit, the man had style, even if he was as chatty as a mime.
Reid glanced at his communicator on his wrist and leaned back on the leather seat, "we have some time before the event. We should probably take stroll round Michelle's office."
Archer nodded and started the engine. The drive over was quick. Archer's car glided through the city streets as if it owned them, finally pulling into a parking space in front of a glassy high-rise building that practically screamed 'corporate hive.'
Walking into the building, they were greeted by the gleam of polished floors and the sterile scent of professional life. A receptionist looked up as they approached the front desk, her face a practiced blend of courtesy and disinterest.
"We're looking to gather some information on Michelle Lim. Would it be possible to speak with someone who knew her?" Archer said, cutting to the chase.
As the receptionist began to reply, a voice piped up from the back office, a sort of chirpy tone that clashed with the muted atmosphere of the lobby. "Did someone ask about Michelle Lim?"
Reid and Archer turned to see a woman emerging from a back room, her expression a complex cocktail of curiosity and apprehension. She looked like the sort who thrived on office gossip but also knew when to keep her cards close to her chest.
"Hi there," Reid started, using his most charming tone. "I'm Reid, and this is my delightfully taciturn friend, Archer. You knew Michelle?"
The woman eyed them skeptically for a moment before relenting. "I'm Linda. Yeah, I knew Michelle. Worked with her, actually. Why? What's going on?"
Reid glanced at Archer, who gave him a nod. "Well, Linda, we're trying to piece together some parts of her life. You could say we're assembling a jigsaw puzzle, and we're missing a few pieces."
Linda's eyes flickered with something—concern, maybe, or perhaps just the sort of juicy intrigue that made the daily grind a little more bearable.
"Let's talk," she said finally, gesturing for them to follow her into the back office.
Reid and Archer exchanged another of their wordless looks as they walked deeper into the office. Linda, leading them down the beige-carpeted hallway, and settled them into a cramped conference room.
It was adorned with nothing but a whiteboard and a faux-wood table and Reid could feel Archer squirming in his seat. The man was somewhat claustrophobic and this tiny room might end up in splinters if Reid doesn't end this quickly.
"Alright, Linda," Reid began, his eyes twinkling with the spark of investigation, "let's hear it. The floor is yours."
Linda, her hands nervously kneading each other, looked from Reid to Archer and then back again. "Michelle was, um, a pretty simple lady, you know? She wasn't one for the theatrics. 9 to 5, clock in, clock out. She even brought her own lunches, always some kind of salad thing."
Reid grinned. "Ah, a creature of habit! Very forensic-file-y. I like it."
Archer's eyes narrowed slightly, picking up on the timidity in Linda's voice. Linda caught the look and hesitated before adding, "The police were actually here a while back. Snooping, asking questions. But they got escorted out by Edward Tay's secretariat before they could dig too deep."
"Oh, ho! Evicted by the big boss's gatekeeper? Edward Tay must have a moat and dragons guarding his secrets, huh?" Reid chuckled, but his eyes were like steel traps, locking onto every detail.
"Yeah, well," Linda shuffled her feet, clearly uncomfortable. "It was all very weird. One day, this mysterious number—nobody knew who it was from—sent out these photos. Photos of Michelle going into Edward's office more often than you'd think."
Reid, sensing there was still more to dig into, leaned back on his heels. "You ever try telling the cops about this? They're pretty fond of mysterious circumstances."
Linda sighed, her shoulders drooping. "I tried. Told them it didn't make sense—Michelle suddenly being involved in all this shady stuff. They pretty much just waved me off. Said they'd 'look into it,' whatever that means."
Archer's gaze intensified, his eyes like laser beams cutting through fog.
Linda's voice quivered as she continued. "Then, just like that, bam! There were rumors and even some kind of evidence that Michelle had wiped clean a colleague's computer. That was it for her here. She left shortly after."
Archer's eyebrow twitched, a sign that his interest was piqued. Reid leaned back, crossed his arms and smirked, "Quite the plot twist. From salad-eating introvert to cyber ninja. Fascinating."
Archer, never one for much conversation, simply gave Reid a look that screamed, 'Stay on track.'
"Mind showing us those mysterious emails and reports?" Reid's voice was tinged with an anticipation he couldn't hide.
Linda hesitated for a moment but then nodded. She quickly accessed her phone and pulled up some emails and reports, sliding the screen toward Reid. His eyes widened as he read through them, and Archer leaned in, eyes absorbing the information like a sponge.
"Any chance we could get a copy of these?" Reid asked, already envisioning how each piece fit into the increasingly complex puzzle.
"Sure, I can send them over to you." Linda was tapping on her communicator and had reached out and connected with Reid's. After a few more buttons on her phone, Reid's own phone buzzed.
Archer, in a rare moment of verbal interaction, broke his silence. "Actually, why did you decide to talk to us? You didn't have to."
Linda sighed, biting her lip. "It's just, when Michelle resigned, she seemed like she was at her last straw, you know? It's been eating at me, thinking maybe all these weird incidents contributed to her... I don't know... maybe even taking her own life."
The weight of her words hung heavily in the air. Archer looked at Reid, who nodded gravely.
"Okay, okay," Reid relented, "but what about her life outside of these four walls? Friends? Family?"
Linda thought for a moment, her face scrunched in concentration. "There was a woman. I don't know who she was, but she used to meet Michelle after work sometimes. They seemed close."
Reid swiped his phone and showed a picture of Penelope to Linda. "Ever seen her?"
Linda peered at the photo, then looked up, puzzled. "I mean, she looks familiar, but no, that's not the woman who came around to meet Michelle."
"Ah, that's Penelope. Big-shot author. New York Times Bestseller list and all," Reid informed her, grinning at his own cultural savvy.
Linda shook her head, her eyes widening as if struck by a distant memory. "Wait, Penelope? No, I've definitely seen her here. In the company, I mean."
Reid's eyebrows shot up, his humor giving way to full-blown curiosity. "Well, well, look at this tangled web we're weaving."
Archer shot Reid a look that could only be described as 'I told you so,' without uttering a single word.
Reid frowned a little before he swiped his phone again, this time bringing up another photo from a police file. "How about her? Is this our mystery woman?"
Linda leaned in and her eyes widened. "Yes, that's her! That's the woman who would always wait for Michelle. She's the one."
Reid and Archer exchanged glances, the gravity of the moment settling between them. Reid's eyes sparkled with the thrill of another clue falling into place, and Archer's eyes, though they betrayed no emotion, were undeniably focused—a hunter zeroing in on his prey.
"Interesting," Reid finally broke the silence, his voice tinged with layers of intrigue and delight. "Very interesting."
"Is there anyone else we should be talking to?" Reid asked, feeling the urgency to collect as many puzzle pieces as possible.
"I don't know, maybe Edward Tay's secretary? The one who chased off the police? But she's not the easiest nut to crack."
Reid chuckled. "Don't worry, I've got a Ph.D. in Nut Cracking. Or was it psychology? One of the two."
Archer shot Reid a 'you're-not-helping' look, which Reid cheerfully ignored.
"I have one last question," Reid asked as he playfully raised his hand.
Linda looked up at him and nodded slowly.
"What made you think you could trust us? You don't really know where we're from," Reid finally questioned, one eyebrow arching up in true Reid-fashion.
Linda grinned, her face turning red, "Well, my mom always said handsome people can't be evil."
Archer, though maintaining his stoic exterior, appeared slightly taken aback, and Reid? He flushed a deep red, flattered and disarmed all at once.
"Your mom sounds like a wise woman, and who are we to argue with mom wisdom?" Reid retorted, feeling his cheeks still hot.
Archer gave Reid a look that said, 'You're enjoying this way too much,'.
Just as Reid and Archer were stepping out of the cramped conference room, a moment worthy of a slapstick comedy unfolded before them. A bespectacled man tripped, his arms flailing like windmills as he stumbled down the narrow corridor. Papers flew, scattering like autumn leaves in a gusty wind. Reid, ever the quick-reacting and compassionate guy, darted across the hallway in a blur, reaching the guy just in time to steady him on his feet.
"Whoa, easy there, buddy. You good?" Reid flashed his signature charming grin.
"Mmm, thank you," the man mumbled, hastily gathering his strewn papers before scurrying away as if late for a Very Important Thing.
Archer raised an eyebrow in a way that signaled a million questions. But before he could project his silent inquisition onto Reid, Linda chimed in, "Oh, that's Olwen Nash, Michelle's once-good friend in the company."
Both Reid and Archer's eyes narrowed in unison. Well, wasn't that a juicy tidbit?
They waited for Linda to continue but the timid girl simply stared at the corridor where Olwen had disappeared into. Sensing that Linda was not going to elaborate or perhaps did not know their relationship that well, they decided to stay here for a bit. Reid turned to Linda. "Hey, you got a minute? Any chance there's a quiet room around here we could use? We could really use a breather, sort our heads out before we head to dinner."
Linda blushed at Reid's natural charm. "Of course, you can use this conference room. I'll swing by in an hour to lock up, just in case."
Reid winked. "We'll probably only be a half-hour, but thanks, Linda. You're a lifesaver."
Once Linda had retreated down the hall, her footsteps gradually fading, Archer and Reid slipped back into the conference room. It was a typical corporate box—fluorescent lights, a long, oblong table covered in faux wood veneer, walls that had seen better days, and chairs that promised backaches. The room was claustrophobic, more so because of its nondescript nature, like it was designed to suck the creativity out of its occupants.
Archer locked the door from the inside and then turned his keen eyes to Reid, giving a sigh that seemed to say, 'I know exactly what you're about to do, and I'm not sure if I like it.' Archer moved methodically around the room, his eyes scanning every inch, seeking out security cameras, microphones, or any other surveillance artifices that might be hiding in plain sight.
Once he located them—and of course, he did, because this is Archer we're talking about—he activated his Ability. It was subtle, almost imperceptible; the artifices inner wiring froze and the images buzzed into static. After a minute, he took a seat next to Reid, who was already engrossed in scrolling through the emails and reports Linda had sent over. With a single nod, Archer wordlessly communicated that they were now in a surveillance-free bubble.
They exchanged a look—Archer's eyes seemed to say, "Alright, genius, do your thing."
Reid grinned and activated his Ability.
The air in the room seemed to shimmer for a moment, as if reality itself was adjusting. Reid's Ability wasn't as straightforward as Archer's.
For that half-hour, the room was a bubble of intense concentration. The air grew thick, almost electric, with their focused energies. They were two sides of the same coin—Archer, the stoic sentinel of logic and caution; Reid, the effervescent oracle of human behavior—both crucial in navigating the labyrinth that was unfolding before them.