“A box? What do you mean ‘a box’?”

  “I mean, when I left home to come to work, there was a box waiting outside my door. Pin brown paper wrapping, addressed to me, no return address. It does not rattle when I shake it. The security team is looking at the security feed to see if they can find who pced it there. The box is not rge enough for a severed head. And no, there is no ticking.” There was a smile in her voice at that st description.

  “Have you tried to open it yet?”

  With that ck of reaction, she knew that her joke bombed. “Not yet, I wanted to give you a heads up first. I was about to open it but I thought I might be giving you a call anyway, so I may as well before I opened it.”

  “Do you often get ‘presents’ like this?”

  Seulgi thought for a moment before responding. “Not really. In the past, I suppose the best word would be ‘fans’ who have left presents. It’s not something that was ever threatening. Normally it would be a poem, a hand drawn portrait, or maybe cookies. Nothing like what’s been happening in the recent past.”

  “Well, thanks for the heads up. Do you want me to head over, just in case?”

  “No thanks, I have Bhuwakul with me now. He should be enough to keep me from doing something stupid.” The smile was back in her voice as she made eye contact with the person in question.

  “Thanks for the update. Let me know if you need me. If you’ll excuse me, we’re about to go make contact with a possible candidate as a suspect.”

  “Will do. Thanks.” She brought out the box and a letter opener. She was about to slit the paper when an iron grip stopped her right hand. Looking up, she saw Bhuwakul. He took the letter opener and box from her grasp before she could protest. He walked to the table on the opposite side of the room while she was still processing what he had just done.

  Before she could even get “Hey!” out, he sat down and looked at her. “There is no way you are going to open an unmarked, unaddressed, mysterious box, that holds who-knows-what, in my presence and think that I am going to let you.”

  She just blinked at him as she thought about what he said.

  “I am going to open this, then will show you what is in it, but you are mad if you think I’ll let you take the risk yourself.”

  She realized what he was saying and why. She had a brief psychosomatic itch just after he said this that activated an atavistic fear. She motioned him to continue.

  He started to cut along where the tape was joined. He was very careful not to cut too much. Especially anywhere there was writing. If this was from The Bad Guy, there might be some handwriting expert who might say nasty things to him if he ruined a clue.

  Eventually, the brown wrapping paper came off. Seulgi noted absently that Bhuwakul cut paper better than her, too. She had a moment of unreasonable anger as it seemed that he was better at everything than her. She knew it was not true and the anger left as fast as it came.

  After the outer shell came off, the inner box appeared to be a standard white corrugated cardboard paper box. Bhuwakul observed the box. He looked at five of the six sides, felt them, sniffed them, put his ear up the one of the sides, and several other ways to observe it. He looked at the fp where the opening was. There was no tape securing it. He pressed the sides hard enough to bow it out a bit. He looked into the gap that was created in that small bit of pressure.

  The opening appeared to be clear with no traps. He was worried if there was tape when the seal was cut, there would be a fuse or trigger that might start whatever reaction that Whomever wanted to harm her would create.

  “It would appear to be clean to be opened. Do you want me to proceed?” This only made things more stressful, not less. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop. The stress just kept mounting the longer he took. No matter how meticulously careful he was, she was still worried that this would blow up in their face. Both literally and metaphorically.

  “Please do. Just be careful.”

  He just grunted in the affirmative as he opened the lid.

  Just as he was opening the fp, someone knocked on her door scaring her bad enough to nearly hit the ceiling. She did not react very well to this untimely interruption.

  “What?” she nearly shouted.

  “Is this a bad time? I can come back…”

  “There was a reason that the door was shut, you know. As in a subtle ‘Do Not Disturb’?”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “It’s ok, just bad timing. Come back in about two hours and we can talk then.”

  “Yes, Seulgi.”

  At least this one does not call me ‘ma’am’ like Min-Jeon does, she thought.

  “Please continue, Bhuwakul.”

  He opened the fp. He looked inside. He tilted it one way and then the other, looking inside. Seeing nothing of immediate danger, he motioned her over as he started taking things out.

  “Call the detective. It’s from Him.”

  Seulgi turned around and grabbed her phone. She dialed and it went to voice mail. She frowned, but then hung up and went to the table. She took things as Bhuwakul handed them to her. Jackson’s driver’s license. A credit card. Something that looked like a handwritten note folded into quarters. Then at the bottom, there was a Poroid photo. He looked at and his face turned into obsidian. She had never seen that look on his face before and was sure she never wanted to again. Especially if she was the focus of it.

  She tried to take the photo from him to her surprise, he didn’t let her have it. “You might not want to see this.” He gnced at the image and back at her. “Seriously, you might not want to see this.”

  “Give it to me. I need to see everything.” He gave it to her. She was confused for a moment. It was a burry montage of whites, bcks, browns, and reds. Bhuwakul corrected her as she was looking at it upside down.

  That’s when she realized that she was looking at a beaten, bloody face. Jackson.