The Hidden Legacy

from my parent’s store.
I lifted my eyes to his and waited for him to speak.
“I’ve gone over this footage dozens of times since last night,” Henry said carefully. “There’s a few things on it that don’t add up for me.”
I resisted the urge to cross my arms over my chest. That was a defensive posture, and he’d take that as confirmation that I was hiding something. “Oh?” I asked and leaned forward as if I was curious. Don’t react, don’t react. I repeated to myself.
Henry perched a hip on his desk and watched me as I studied the video. There was no sound, and the security recording wasn’t crystal clear—and for that I was profoundly grateful. “In this spot here,” he said tapping a key and pausing the video. “The door to the shop slams shut. All by itself.”
“It does?” I did my best to sound surprised. I waited while Henry rewound the video, and I watched again, as if fascinated. “Hmm...I guess the wind caught it,” I said, completely honest.
Well, that was the truth. The wind did catch it.
“Then there’s this little section here,” he said, rewinding the recording. He pointed to the screen and I saw myself facing off with the teenager named Zane from across the counter.
Luckily, it was barely noticeable the way my hair and long black dress had rippled. Unless you were watching for something unusual. It didn’t show up at all on the recording how the element of air had rolled towards the boy, but you could see his facial expression, and the fear in his eyes as he’d stepped away from me.
“What am I supposed to be looking for?” I frowned up at him, as if confused.
“Maybe that confused frown works on the locals around here darlin’, but it sure as hell don’t work on me,” Henry drawled.
The recording rolled forward and the section came up again to the part that showed the door slamming. Unfortunately, the video had caught me pushing my hand out a second before the door closed.
“I want to know how you did that.” He angled his head towards the recording.
Deflect and distract, I braced myself. “Did what?” I asked, tucking my hair behind my ear.
He hissed out a breath in frustration. “How you scared that kid into stepping back from you. How you seemed to shut the door from across the room, and most of all I want to know how you knew that third kid had a gun—even before I did.”
“What makes you think that I knew he was armed?”
“Responding with a question is a classic way to avoid answering the original question.”
“It is?” I said as wide eyed and breathless as possible. “Goodness, it’s almost like I work with a Private Investigator!”
“Cut that shit out.”
I smiled, and batted my eyes at him for effect.
“You knew he was armed. You warned your mother.” His brows lowered and he leaned forward. “Was ozone a code word y’all had worked out in case of a robbery?”
“No, it’s not a code word,” I said.
Henry was rapidly losing his composure. “Did you see his gun?”
“No I didn’t see it.” I sighed.
“Then how did you know?”
Maybe the truth was the best cover after all. “I smelled it on him.”
My answer didn’t sit very well with Henry. “No more games, Hannah. Let’s start again.”
“Interrogation tactics really won’t work on me,” I said pleasantly.
Henry swore under his breath.
“Are you accusing me of something, Mr. Walker?” I asked, and was proud that I’d managed to keep my voice at an even pitch, even as his temper visibly unraveled.
Henry glared at me, and I met that glare with a neutral expression. It wasn’t easy keeping my expression relaxed, but I pulled it off. Thankfully, the phone on my desk began to ring. I stood up. “Excuse me, I need to answer that.”
“We aren’t finished, Hannah,” he said blocking the exit.
Stand off. Practically nose to nose we measured each other. He bent down, searching my eyes, and I tipped my chin up, reminding myself to breathe through my mouth. The last thing I wanted to do was get a whiff of how angry or suspicious he was of me.
He stood staring down at me for a few seconds longer, and for one wild moment I wondered if he was about to kiss me. It was in his eyes, and I yanked my head back in refusal. It seemed like forever until he finally eased away.
I took a cautions step to the left. The phone continued to ring, and Henry reluctantly shifted aside.
I went to my desk and answered the phone. It was a reporter from the local paper wanting to interview me. I was so rattled by the confrontation with Henry that I let him talk longer than I should have. Once I finally clued into what the reporter was saying, I cut the call short. “No comment,” I said, and hung up. I forced myself to sit in my chair. I straightened up the files on my desk and began to generate the payroll reports.
The fact that I accomplished absolutely nothing for a half hour didn’t matter. Because when Henry left all he saw was me working my way through the payroll. My stomach was tied into knots, and I breathed a sigh of relief when he walked out.
Now that he was gone, I played over the whole scene in my mind. Had he really thought he could intimidate me into confessing something? Did he even understand what he was poking around the edges of? My temper started to bubble and boil.
The papers on my desk began to flutter in the wind that my temper had called into the office. I slapped my hands down on them to keep them from blowing away and worked to calm down. Holy shit! If that would’ve happened while he was in the office...Horrified, I took a deep breath and tried to ground and center my energy.
The wind died down and I rolled my shoulders, trying to find some relief