With studied
nonchalance, Jessie sauntered to the door, pretending to sip wine
from the cut glass goblet. Pausing to make sure the other inhabitants
remained preoccupied with each other, were watching the game, or
browsing the buffet table, she slipped into the hall, closing the
door behind her.
The sound of rabidly
excited baseball fans rolled through the stadium hall as the player
who’d slammed the ball into far right field while she was escaping
made his way around the bases.
Despite the noise,
she felt her tension level fall a notch. Taking a deep breath, she
let it out slowly.
“Lord, what a
day!” she muttered.
Being an up and
coming athlete who need sponsorship sucked, because it meant she had
to schmooze with snooty rich bitches, and dodge advances from creepy,
predator-type bastards, who assumed they had the right to make slimy
propositions.
Only her manager’s
timely intervention had allowed her to get away for a brief respite
before she did something regrettable.
She had been out
less than a minute, but it was enough to restore her equilibrium.
About to reopen the door, she noticed something glittering several
feet away.
The curved display
case, which separated the entrance of this private box from the next,
was shattered. Apparently made of safety glass, even though it was
heavily cracked, only a few pieces had landed on the floor.
Now that she was
looking, she could see the handle of what appeared to be a snow
shovel sticking out of the hole the perpetrator had made. Then
something inside moved, and something large else fell with a crash.
Intrigued, she crept
closer, peering through the hole.
Her mouth fell open
as the biggest possum she’d ever seen crawled sedately along the
shelf, knocking plaques and trophies off their perches.
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