Chapter 7: The Original File
“Who is this?”” Mr. Grant asked.
Derek jerked the phone away from his ear.
For one terrible second, he looked like a child caught doing something he couldn't explain. His fingers tightened around the device, and his eyes darted toward the back-office door.
The caller was still speaking.
“Derek, are you listening to me? Do not let him see that file. Do you understand?””
Derek pressed the phone against his chest.
“I have to call you back.””
“No! Listen to me. If that file reaches compliance, everything—”
Derek ended the call.
The silence afterward felt heavier than the music drifting from the store's ceiling speakers.
Mr. Harris stared at him.
“Who was that?””
“Nobody.””
“Nobody just told you not to let Mr. Grant see an original file.””
Derek shoved his phone into his pocket.
“It was a personal call.””
“Then why did the caller mention an internal file?””
“I don't know!””
His voice cracked on the last word.
Mr. Grant remained beside the display case, his worn brown jacket open, one hand resting near the velvet ring box. His expression had not changed, but his eyes followed Derek's every movement.
“Derek,” he said, “where is the original file?””
“I don't know what you're talking about.””
“The caller seemed to believe you did.””
“I can't control what other people say.””
“No. But you can control whether you answer a question.””
Derek shook his head.
“This is ridiculous. You walked into this store, and suddenly everybody is treating me like I'm guilty of something.””
Mr. Grant tilted his head slightly.
“Then help us establish the truth.””
“I'm not discussing this without a lawyer.””
Harris looked startled.
“A lawyer? Derek, nobody has accused you of a crime.””
“Then why am I being told I can't leave?””
“Because regional operations issued an instruction while an authorization is under review.””
“That's not the same as having legal authority to detain me.””
Harris hesitated.
Mr. Grant answered before he could.
“Then you should request clarification from the appropriate people. Nobody here needs to invent authority they don't possess.””
Derek looked at him sharply.
For the first time, Mr. Grant had offered him something other than a question: a boundary.
Harris nodded.
“I'm contacting regional operations again. I'll ask them to clarify the instruction and arrange for the appropriate compliance representative to attend.””
“Good,” Mr. Grant said.
The manager stepped away to make the call.
Derek watched him go, then turned toward the customers.
“This is a misunderstanding,” he announced.
“You're all welcome to continue shopping.””
Nobody moved.
The woman near the entrance gave him a disapproving look.
“You could have avoided this by treating that gentleman with respect.””
Derek's cheeks burned.
“Ma'am, respectfully, you don't know anything about what's happening.””
“I know what I watched you do.””
He pointed toward the entrance.
“If you're not buying anything, perhaps you should leave.””
“Perhaps you should stop telling customers where they belong.””
Mr. Grant lifted one hand.
“There's no need for anyone else to argue.””
The woman nodded, but she didn't leave.
Instead, she moved beside the young couple, all three watching quietly.
Derek leaned closer to Mr. Grant.
“Can I speak to you privately?””
“Why?””
“Because I think we can resolve this without making it worse.””
“What needs resolving?””
Derek's eyes moved toward Harris, who was speaking urgently into his phone near the office door.
“Whatever you think I've done, I can explain.””
“Then explain it.””
“Not here.””
Mr. Grant considered him.
“Earlier, you had no difficulty discussing my appearance in front of everyone.””
Derek flinched.
“That was different.””
“How?””
“I was doing my job.””
“Was humiliating a customer part of your job?””
“No.””
“Then perhaps we should begin with that truth.””
Derek's jaw tightened.
He looked as though he wanted to argue, but the words wouldn't come.
Mr. Grant turned back toward the ring.
“I'd still like to examine this piece.””
Harris returned before Derek could respond.
“Sir, regional operations has confirmed that a compliance representative is on the way. They've also instructed us to preserve all relevant records.””
“Good.””
“They asked whether the original authorization file is physically stored at this location.””
Mr. Grant looked at Derek.
“And is it?””
Harris checked the tablet.
“According to the system, a local copy exists in the back office. The original electronic record is maintained on the company's secure server.””
Derek's eyes widened.
Harris noticed.
“Why does that concern you?””
“It doesn't.””
“You looked surprised.””
“I didn't.””
Mr. Grant watched Derek's hand move toward his pocket.
“Your phone is ringing again.””
Derek glanced down.
The same unknown number appeared on the screen.
He rejected the call.
A message arrived immediately.
He read it.
Then his face lost what little color remained.
Mr. Grant held out his hand—not to take the phone, but to invite Derek to show him the message.
“Would you like to explain?””
Derek backed away.
“No.””
The phone vibrated again.
This time, the notification displayed a preview across the screen.
*THE ORIGINAL IS IN THE BLUE CABINET. GET IT BEFORE HARRIS OPENS IT.*
Harris read the message over Derek's shoulder.
He went completely still.
“The blue cabinet,” he whispered.
Then he turned toward the back-office door.
Mr. Grant's voice remained calm.
“Mr. Harris, don't touch anything until the records are secured.””
Harris nodded, then stopped.
“Sir, the blue cabinet contains archived transaction documents. It's locked.””
“Who has access?””
“Store management. And certain authorized personnel.””
Derek began backing toward the entrance.
The woman near the door noticed immediately.
“Where are you going?””
“Outside.””
Harris stepped into his path, leaving enough room for him to move without touching him.
“Derek, please wait while we clarify the instruction.””
“Get out of my way.””
“I'm asking you to remain available. If you believe the instruction is improper, we can address that with the compliance representative.””
Derek stared at him.
“You're choosing him over me.””
Harris's voice softened, but his answer did not.
“I'm choosing to find out what happened.””
Mr. Grant turned toward the office.
“Mr. Harris, I want the cabinet's access history preserved. Nothing should be removed or altered.””
“Yes, sir.””
Harris entered the office, leaving the door open.
Derek stood near the entrance, breathing hard.
His phone vibrated one more time.
He looked down.
The new message contained only six words.
*HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT'S IN THERE.*
Derek slowly raised his eyes toward Mr. Grant.
For the first time since the afternoon began, the salesman looked at the older man not with contempt, not with irritation, and not even with simple fear.
He looked at him with pity.
May you like
And Mr. Grant, who had remained calm through every insult, finally recognized that expression.
Whatever was hidden in the blue cabinet, Derek believed it was something Mr. Grant could not afford to discover.
