CHAPTER 4

(Two weeks before the will reading).

A girl's moans filtered through the gymnasium's ventilation ducts.

Carla Davis, a beautiful woman in her late forties, with straight black hair, tall, fair skin, with slightly Asian features, mixed with English blood and Latin ancestry, turned off the shower faucet to hear the bustle better.

It was evening, mid-December. Carla hadn't been able to attend the spa, swim in the pool, or work out for a while now, so that night she preferred to stay longer than the established time there at the gym where she always used to go.

The shower was delicious. Warm, soothing water. But she needed to pay attention, staying still, trying to understand what was heard in the room.

The echo allowed her to better listen to everything. Even a pin falling on the floor could be heard by anyone who was there at that time of day. The feminine moans were constant. That voice seemed to be trying to get someone to leave her alone at all costs.

Carla felt goosebumps and swallowed thickly.

«What's going on? And where exactly?», she asked herself mentally, looking to no specific point, as she continued to extract information from the same din that had her in despair.

Davis, who worked as a Senior Assistant in the Protocol department with international connections of a large investment consortium, her boss being one of the most controversial businessmen in the city, used to take great care of the environment where she was seen, she took great care of the places she frequented, the people she interacted with, since (as well as her coworkers) she was the image of the company.

Apart from all those reasons that made her a prudent woman, she knew perfectly well how important and beneficial it was to live under a low profile, thanks to the fact that, in the last months, The Big Boss, as some colleagues used to call to that famous employer named Maximiliano Bastidas, experienced a very bad business streak in which she, unwillingly, was involved. The last thing Carla wanted was to open unnecessary gaps. Much less add gloomy numbers to the "peace of mind" equation. But now, listening to those strange moans, assuming the worst, all she could think of was wanting to find out, to know what was going on, without having to get involved in anything shady or indiscreet.

Carla Davis, listening and listening, thought that what was going on in that building was not good.

She looked up at the air conditioning ducts that were currently functioning as heaters above the showers.

Took the white towel placed on the medium-sized tiled wall that separated one shower from the other. She began to dry her body as stepped out of the small cubicle that smelled of chlorine, sunscreen, and soap.

She slipped her feet into a pair of cracked rubber sandals, the same ones she used to wear every time she went. Covered her nakedness with the cloth and looked up at the ceiling again, as she pushed her soaked hair back, trying not to let the wet, black locks bother her face.

Just above her head was one of the many vents of the famous ducts and she realized that it was from there the sound was emanating.

Carla began to walk to her right, stealthily looking up, following the sound of the woman who seemed to be in pain.

She realized, that to continue investigating, had to leave the bathrooms. She did it without getting dressed, only using the small white towel as clothing and those rubber shoes that silenced her footsteps.

Carla walked through the shower area, reached the locker room, and slowly exited.

There was no one around, so silence not only reigned inside the powder room, it also covered every corner of the gym.

The hallway was wide and spacious, and to her left was the exit, next to the reception area, a waiting room, shelves, and more offices.

The lobby was empty. «How strange», she thought. Carla was the only person inside the locker room, but she knew it was impossible to be left completely alone in the whole building. Someone had to be there to receive towels, close the place, and do (maybe) cashier closing.

«Could it be that the girl on the morning shift didn't keep her schedule?» she asked herself. Certainly couldn't answer those questions as spent a lot of time in the pool, reconnecting with activities she hadn't practiced in a while, so she couldn't see the relief of any of the staff.

The gym was not a large building, but it was modern and luxurious, with spacious and clean areas that included a machine area, the pool, men's showers, women's showers, and offices.

The closer she got to the reception area, the moaning intensified.

Diagonal to it, on her right side, she spotted a gray-plated door, which was ajar.

Everything emanated from that office: light and noise, and those creepy female moans that gave her goosebumps.

Carla approached, stealthier than ever. Her heart was going a mile a minute, tightly clenched, her dry mouth battling for control of her breath, as she wore flimsy, crazed nerves.

"No more, please, no more!"

"Shut up!"

"No more! Please, leave me... No more," begged the feminine voice again, manufactured by a terrified, tired, pleading cry.

"I told you to be quiet."

Carla opened her eyes wide and covered her mouth with her hands.

What she saw was the worst scene she ever thought would witness in her life. A guy with fluffy, light brown hair and a bushy but neatly trimmed beard was having sex with a woman he was pinning against a glass and steel desk.

What Davis had assumed from the first loud groan she heard through the ventilation ducts was true, was coming true before her eyes. She understood immediately that this sexual act was not consensual.

The woman beneath the man was crying inconsolably, obviously tired, her face smeared with make-up and pressed against the glass of the table.

Her sweatpants swirled around her thighs, while her tangled hair was being held by those male malevolent hands.

Quickly, Carla detailed the young woman's face. «The receptionist!», she screamed inside her mind.

And just as quickly, she noticed that the woman had blood on her face.

The employee discovered Davis standing there in the doorway.

Carla gasped and took a big step back.

Just to a scream, and go into that office to try to defend her, the victim begging her with her eyes to get out of the gym, run for her life, to get the hell out of there!

Suddenly, the guy looked to the left and saw her too.

"Fuck," exhaled Carla.

"Hey!"

The witness slammed her back against a wall, crumpling her face in pain and starting to run.

At full speed, she marched into the girls' bathroom, slamming the door shut with a loud bang and dragging a chair to block it.

She stamped over her gym bag, grabbing it with one hand. With the other, the boots she'd gotten there in, she ran further into the powder room, thinking she could get out through a door that connected to the sink.

She found the darned glass door, but it was locked.

"Open it!" Carla pushed the doorknob with her hands, moving it back and forth in desperation. "Open it, dammit!"

The guy managed to get in, and Carla quickly backed up as far as she could until she hid behind the last lockers.

With trembling hands, she rummaged through her purse until she found her cell phone, dialing the emergency number.

"Good evening. You have reached the emergency service. Please, state your full name and tell us your situation..."

Carla automatically put the phone down, realizing that her pursuer was getting closer and closer.

She did not hang up the call. She activated the speakerphone and tucked her cell phone into her workout bag.

Carla began to look around urgently until she spotted a window at the back of one of the lockers, covered with the same metal structure.

She frowned, wondering how she could move the locker without him noticing it.

«Oh my God, help me. What am I going to do, what do I do?!»

She tucked her body in, flattening it as much as she could, setting her purse on the floor next to her shoes so she could have the easiest task to execute.

"Hey, don't hide," that guy said in a voice that didn't sound like his own. Carla thought it was a rather youthful voice, although hoarse.

With a lot of effort and taking advantage of the fact that he was concentrating on checking the large shower space first, passing by the locker area, she gradually dragged the locker until she was able to enlarge the corner and get her body in even further.

Tired, and desperate, she looked out the window. She felt rays of artificial light from the street run across her skin as she realized it was a sliding glass window overlooking an alley covered with blocks and grass. The window took on a heavenly glow for her.

«If there's grass, there's a way out», she thought, looking this way and trying to answer herself where that very exit was.

She slid back the sheet of glass. The cold outside hit her immediately.

"I won't hurt you, let's talk. What you saw in the office is not what it seems," the man kept saying, closer and closer to her.

She would catch a cold, but she would keep her life.

Carla adjusted the towel she was wearing around her naked body. Adrenaline coursed through her system and warmed her at the same time.

She stuck out first one leg, then her head, and finally the other leg, steadying her rubber sandals on a small planked garden and taking another leap onto the rustic ground of that narrow alley. And looked to her left then. «Bingo!»

"Hey, stop!"

Carla broke into a run toward the road, anywhere, far away from there, speeding away, running without stopping, her throat dry, a big knot in her chest, urgent, urgent, fast, far away, straight to find help for the girl, a phone to call for help, clothes to cover herself, someone who could help her right now! Didn't stop until was sure she was safe.

However, the nerves would last beyond that night. And things would start to change from that moment on.

The hunter had seen her. She had seen him too. Davis already knew his face and would never forget it. Besides, she would recognize that youthful, husky voice from miles away. She was sure that, in time, he would get her.

That night, after getting a couple of policemen to escort her and give all the help she could get when they returned to the gym to inspect, the place was empty. Neither the woman nor the man were there and of course, for both the police officers and herself, this was very strange.

Davis began to feel fear because her boots and purse were not found either.

***

(A day before the will reading).

Carla opened her eyes.

She felt like her heart would burst and her breathing was labored.

She ripped the comforter off her body and threw her feet on the floor on the right side of the bed, after realizing that she was no longer dreaming.

She exhaled quite a lot of air and ran her hands over her face. She had just had a nightmare, the same as days ago. More than a dream, a grim memory.

Carla had been suffering from the same thing since Thursday night, thanks to that terrible episode at her trusted gym. Everything her dream projected had happened.

Carla deeply regretted what she witnessed. She thought of that girl and her assailant over and over again. The receptionist of that building was bullied and she didn't know what to do with those images in her head. The perpetrator of that vile act became aware of her presence, and saw her face, just as she saw him very well. In her memory, she carried well engraved that gloomy, juvenile, and hoarse voice, and opened in her chest, a great hole full of anxiety that seemed to swallow from head to toe.

On Saturday, she went to her regular doctor, the headache was unbearable. She left his office with painkillers for her physical discomfort, but for the emotional one, the doctor only recommended rest. Stress it seemed was the culprit.

And there was no escaping the reality. Carla Davis was stressed, but she couldn't tell too many people the real reason; fear took an important place in her head.

She thought about staying home that week and listening to her doctor, but she also worried a lot about her job, since only a month ago, maybe a little more, her year was cut short by an episode that added to that reason caused great stress that afflicted her, creating an epic list of things that were happening to her.

The woman with extra straight black hair, tall, slender, thin face, white skin, and slightly slanted eyes, was looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, completely naked and wet an hour after getting out of bed, detailing her figure a little.

She had sagged, but thanks to her Latin genes on her father's side (though distant genes, as far as she could tell), she retained curves that were not typical of the other half of her genetics, which was Japanese.

"I won't lose my job," she vowed aloud, finishing her bath to get dressed as quickly as possible to avoid missing work again.

It was already Thursday again, she had missed a lot of work. However, she felt something in her chest. If she did not go to the consortium on that day, something very bad would happen.