by Donna L Martin
Kyle stood on the corner and stared at the tall building looming over him. It looked like the setting of a gothic mystery he read once. He almost expected to see huge gargoyles hanging from the tower, their beady eyes watching his every move.
Crossing the plaza, Kyle entered the lobby before pulling the letter out of his back pocket to double check which floor he needed. Last week his life had been simple. Last week he was just a small town grocery clerk making a small man's wages and hoping one day to meet a nice girl in the produce aisle. Today, according to the letter he still clutched in his hand, he was the sole heir to a mysterious inheritance and here he was, halfway across the country, to claim it.
Poor Uncle Henry. Kyle had met him a few times over the years, even liked the old guy. But Kyle never really believed the tales he used to tell him about his ties to Al Capone. Now, because of a thin family tie and a few summer visits, he was back in the windy city to fulfill an old man's dying wish.
The elevator glided silently past the floors until it slid to a halt at the 29th one. Walking down a long corridor covered in green carpet that had seen better days, Kyle glanced at the name on the glass door before stepping inside.
William P Hollingberry, Solicitor. Even the name sounded as ancient as the office furniture looked, Kyle thought, as he closed the door. Maybe he could quickly sign whatever papers this Mr. Hollingberry told him needed to be signed here instead of back home and make it back to the hotel in time to catch Vanna before she turned too many letters around.
No one was sitting at the shabby front desk and after a few minutes Kyle began to wonder if he was all alone in the office when another door slowly opened with a slight squeaking sound. Resting heavily on a hand-carved walking cane, an elderly man slowly made his way across the room to stand in front of Kyle.
"You must be Henry's nephew, Kyle. Why, I'd know you anywhere!" The old man's blue-veined hand grasped his and Kyle suppressed the urge to pull it quickly out of reach. There was something about the old man, something about the office itself which gave him the creeps. Maybe he never should have come. Maybe Uncle Henry would have been better off taking whatever this mysterious inheritance was to his grave. Too late to turn back now, Kyle realized, when the old man grasped his hand a little tighter and began to tug him in the direction of the inner office.
"Let's go have a chat about your inheritance, shall we?" the lawyer said with a strange smirk and Kyle had no choice but to follow him into the other room...
***Okay, it's your turn! What happens next? Did Uncle Henry really have ties to Al Capone? What is this mysterious inheritance and why did Kyle have to travel all the way across country to claim it? Would it have been safer for Kyle to stay home or is someone else out to claim his inheritance? Put your creative cap on and add a sentence or add a paragraph. Continue my story or start one of your own. Join the fun and see where this picture prompt takes us!***