Big Bang 2012: Love Lies Burning. 6/24
There’s a place they will take you. There is a home with no parents, with white walls and locked doors. Stay in the shadows, son. Stay clean. Stay quiet. Stay hidden.
Night gives Jensen respite and resets his world, but he knows that the reality he has woken to can never be the same as it was. Jensen has broken the rules, tampered with what keeps him safe. He should follow his schedule, but it is out of sequence. Josh taught him the importance of planning and routine. It stops his inappropriate behaviour, keeps his mind from wandering and prevents time from jumping. He has the day and date marked in his journal but he’s not sure if he marked off one too many numbers or has forgotten a week. He should find the newspaper stand, the newspaper is always correct. He needs to eat, his stomach grumbles noisily and he feels dizzy.
He has to focus.
Jensen stands in a metal-lined vault, under the gaze of cameras and the glare of fluorescent lights. He closes his eyes and sniffs at the disinfected air pumping from the vents. He spins 360 degrees, with his arms spread, while holding a thick, sealed envelope in his fingers. He absorbs the silence, the smell and the cool breeze on the hairs of his arms. When he halts, dizzy and breathless, he knows he must open the solid crate that he has slid from storage among the stacks of numbered safe deposit boxes. He takes it into the booth, a good, secure, hidden, place. He turns the key and pries open the lid and stares down at the contents. He lifts out a few of the envelopes. In each is sealed a stack of ink marked paper, removed from the gripping metal jaws of his journal when it has become so full of paper that it bulges and their hold becomes tenuous. There are so many envelopes, they practically spill from the box. Has he failed so many times? Wasted so many days? He runs his fingers over the envelopes and then delves deeper, below the plain brown envelopes. He uses his nails to scrape along the sharp, even edge of reams of paper notes, catching on the elastic bands that keep them secure and accounted for. After he’s finished he puts everything back, in date order, locks it back up and slots it in its rightful space.
When Jensen pushes through the rotating door of the bank, to feel fresh air on his face, he knows he should move away from the places where he has become visible. He must melt into the dark edges of society to become faceless once more.
Alona thinks she might go mad and use a letter opener to savagely disfigure her boss. It is less than a month until the annual accounts are finalized and Jared Padalecki CEO is being unbearable. He is closeted in his office, door closed and unavailable, deep in discussion with her boyfriend, yet again. It is going to be another day when Misha leaves the office late, with less sex drive than a sloth and it is simply unreasonable. Jared already knows every cent that moves in this company, every day of the year. She has never worked with anyone who has such a close eye on the profit margins. Today she has sent out final reminders to all outstanding debtors and contacted a barely legal and intimidating debt collection agency to aid their priorities because Padalecki Inc. doesn’t tolerate late payment. It’s not a task which gives her a warm glow of satisfaction.
It's not like Alona can see a problem with the numbers. Padalecki has completed a major modernization program which elevated costs for this fiscal year but they are still on target to break even or at worst, make a negligible loss of around $300,000. She’s worked with companies where that would have been reason to break out champagne and do a very drunken conga, but Jared Padalecki is pacing the building like a hungry lion in a herd of gazelle. Every now and again he roars and workers scatter in all directions. Speaking of which;
“Alona. We haven’t had any coffee for hours. What are you doing out there?” Jared is peering through the doorway.
“Please Al,” Misha flashes his baby blue eyes at her.
Sex. She thinks. I better be getting sex for all this trouble I go to.
Misha senses her frustration or perhaps he sees the white knuckled clutch of her hand around a stapler which could easily become airborne. “We should leave early today. Have a quiet night in with some movies and chocolate. What do you think Al?”
There’s a mirthless chuckle from Jared. “Is this a request to leave early because you’ll never get in her panties while I’m riding your ass?”
Misha pokes him in the ribs. “No. It’s a statement that I will be leaving on time and taking your gorgeous, underappreciated assistant with me. That you lack any sort of manners or love life is not my problem.”
Jared’s personal storm cloud darkens. His lips thin and his eyes glitter dangerously. He looks unconsciously to the window where the Nikon binoculars lie, seemingly abandoned, on the sill, but Alona knows they’re not. She’s seen him scanning the gardens and the street and observed his disappointed expression when Jen still isn’t there. It amuses her that there are endless people who will ask, “How high?” when he says “Jump,” but the one person he has been searching for, more than any other, doesn’t give a damn about him. Alona makes fresh coffee with a smile on her lips and doesn’t consider the inclusion of rat poison this time.
She places coffee on Jared’s desk and before she can scurry out there are instructions being barked at her.
“Find the list price for my limo and get a buyer. I want the cash for it, this week. No less than $70,000,” Jared is offhand and Alona has to stop and think about it. “Your limo? You are selling your limousine?”
“Are you deaf or stupid? It is a company asset and I don’t need it. Sell it.”
Alona’s eyes widen. “What should I tell your driver, sir?”
“Well, obviously, you’re no longer needed, is the line that comes to mind. Have a check made out for the minimum mandatory sum. Send him a note. Services no longer required, appreciate your service, etcetera, etcetera.”
Alona bites her tongue before she can mention the man’s young family but Jared pre-empts her, “He’ll be snapped up by somebody. He’s worked for me, he can work for anyone.” Next, Jared flings a file at her, “Travel requisitions,” he says, “Have admin. downgrade everyone asking for first to business or from business to coach class and find more reasonable accommodations.”
Alona shifts on the balls of her feet and grimaces “There are requisitions for Jeff and yourself in there, sir. Will you be authorizing them separately?”
“Downgrade us too and find out whether Jeff wants to continue using his limo or if he would rather keep his Cayenne. He can have one; we’ll sell the other.
Alona thinks she may be gaping a little, she glances nervously at Misha who gives her his best we’ll talk about it later look. She bumps into the door handle, giving a little yelp, in her hurry to escape the awkward atmosphere. She would breathe a sigh of relief as she closes the door, but she has a feeling that Jeff Padalecki hasn’t been informed of Jared’s plans yet.
As it happens, Jared’s cost cutting measures are superseded in spectacular fashion but it doesn’t mean that Jeffrey Padalecki is any less furious. Kim calls on the internal line, her voice high and panicky. “Al, you need to get Jared down to reception, right now.”
“He’s in a meeting,” Alona huffs.
“Whatever it is, it’s not more important than this. Al, we’ve got an insurance investigator and cops with a search warrant down here.”
Alona doesn’t have to tell Jared anything, he’s already racing past her to the corridor. “Get hold of our lawyer, Al. Now!”
Jeff is red with rage and waving a formal piece of paper in the air when Jared arrives in reception. The senior police officer introduces himself as Detective Pearson and holds out his hand in greeting. Jared doesn’t even acknowledge him.
“We should move this somewhere more private,” comments Jared, herding the wary investigator and the cops toward a side room. Two of the cops are wearing coats emblazoned with the word FORENSICS and Jared thinks it cannot be a good sign. The insurance investigator is the same one who has already met Jared. He gulps and the side of his mouth starts to twitch when he notices the deadly glare that the CEO flashes at him while everyone else is distracted.
The lawyer estimates he can be there in an hour, but the cops don’t want to wait. In fact they won’t wait and don’t have to, so Jared grabs at the documentation and scans it, reading quickly. His brows knit in obvious confusion, “You are going to search the basement and seize our cars. Why?”
Pearson replies, “Only the Porsche Cayennes. You have two. We have reason to believe that there was a Porsche Cayenne at the Linden crime scene. There were tracks consistent with the model and a potential witness. It seems sensible to rule out the ones in the Padalecki fleet.”
Jeff is opening his mouth, “You can’t…”
Jared lays his hand firmly on his brother’s arm. It is more a gesture of warning than reassurance. “They can. I’m not using mine. Are you?”
Jeff is trembling and now Jared’s hand starts to stroke down his forearm, brotherly and warm, “No, I er, I’ve been using the limo.”
“Let it go Jeff. Honestly, I was about to sell the stupid thing anyhow. Let them have their fun and waste tax payers’ money. We have nothing to hide.” He turns to address the cops next, studiously ignoring the investigator, “We’re prepared to co-operate in any way we can but if you wish to talk to my brother or I, or any of our staff then you will have to wait until there is legal representation.”
“It’s just about ruling your vehicles out at the moment, sir.” The lady from forensics seems relieved by Jared’s calm handling of the situation.
“Good. Leave the basement in good order or I will put a complaint in to the Chief. Please be aware that any mileage you put on the vehicles will be charged at rental rates. Damage will need to be compensated for. My assistant has a set of keys for both cars and the log books. It is not beyond possibility that either car has been used by senior staff to visit Linden. We own the property and there have been numerous visits. When we are not using our cars, they are available as a pooled resource.” His voice is ice cold and condescending.
The forensics lady speaks again, “Can you give us some idea when you last used your Cayenne?”
Jared rolls his eyes up to the side, trying to calculate it. “Oh, I don’t know. Months ago? Jeff?”
Jeff grits his teeth as he speaks, “A few weeks ago. It’ll be in the log book.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I have a busy schedule,” Jared dismisses them with a shooing motion to the door.
Jeff digs his heels in, “We should accompany them, check what they’re doing.”
Jared sighs and shakes his head. He looks directly at the insurance investigator, “Are you going to plant incriminating evidence?” he asks with fake weariness.
The man shakes his head, wide eyed and timid, “No, sir.”
“There. Good. Now. Can we all move on?” He guides Jeff back to the managing director’s office and asks Kim to bring him a brandy. He takes his brother and the brandy through to the inner, soundproof office and locks the door.
Jared leans one shoulder against the wall and crosses his arms, “What did you do Jeff?”
“Me!” Jeff looks shocked and points at his own chest. “Nothing! You’re the one…” he points at his brother.
Jared’s voice is louder now and he’s clearly ruffled, “Why? Why would I have done anything?”
Jeff sits heavily and puts his head in his hand. “You’re so fucking competitive! These last two years I hardly know you Jay. You want this so bad and I can’t even figure out why. You’re enjoying it. You’ve become Pa and you’re revelling in it. I crunched the numbers and you’re so close. Linden was holding you back. Right now, you’re on the ropes and I don’t think there’s anything you wouldn’t do.”
“Fuck you!” Jared is clenching and unclenching his fists, taut with rage. “How can you even...? Everything I have done has been fair and legal. Everything! And I’m not done for yet. It’s not game over yet.” He snatches the glass of brandy from Jeff’s hand and drains it in one swallow. “Fire, really? You want to accuse me of that? I think we both know it’s not the sort of scheme I think up.” He sneers at his big brother. “You want to keep panicking and give them reasons to investigate further, you go ahead.”
Jared Padalecki is in a rage, he’s 6’4” and he’s well built with lean muscle but his brother has two inches on him and a temper even more ugly. There’s years of simmering resentment and Jared knows how to talk a low blow. When Jeff unlocks the door and storms out, grabbing his jacket to go, Jared is lying on the floor, clutching his ribs, with a split lip and a rapidly swelling face.
Kim is running after Jeff, she needs a statement for the rest of the workforce, but he calls for his limo and leaves the building, stony faced and uncooperative. Alona, who has been gossiping with Kim about the afternoon’s events, is the first to see the mess that her employer is in. He’s struggling to sit up, with his jaw in his hand and a dazed expression.
“Mr. Padalecki, sir. Are you okay?”
He tests his jaw, experimentally and wipes blood onto the cuff of his Armani jacket. He won’t meet her concerned gaze. “M’fine,” is mumbled quietly.
She is waving her cell in one hand with the other reaching automatically to rest reassuringly on his shoulder. “You need an ambulance.”
“No. No. Nobody finds out. Nobody!” He’s struggling to his feet and wincing in pain.
Kim has entered the room and is standing with her hand over her mouth, pale and horrified. “What happened? Did Jeff do this?”
“I tripped over a chair. That’s all. Understand?”
To hell with her professional distance, Alona has seen some boardroom brawls but none of them has ever ended in such physical harm. Her boss is one of the youngest CEO’s in the U.S. Right now he looks like a kicked puppy. However bitchy his usual attitude, she is his P.A. and it is her place to look after him. Her hand is unbuttoning his shirt and he’s too shocked to resist. The fabric is peeled back to reveal dark red bruises blooming over his kidneys and across the line of his lower ribs. She speaks gently but firmly, “Jared, no chair does that sort of harm. He’s your brother, I get that. I’m not going make a fuss or call the cops but you have to get some medical help, there could be real damage here.”
Kim is opening and shutting her mouth before sound finally comes forth. “We can’t just ignore this. It’s assault.”
Alona snaps a reply as Jared groans and collapses back to the floor. “The cops have only just left the building. They have taken Jeff and Jared’s cars for analysis. What do you think they’re going to make of this?”
Kim seems to think about it and her eyes widen further, “Do you think?”
“If you value your job you don’t think Kim, and you don’t utter a word of this to anybody. Find Misha and we’ll get Jared home and arrange some help.”
Kim rushes off to find the accountant and there is just Alona and Jared in the room. The sweat is beading from Jared’s brow and he’s breathing shallow and fast. He’s looking at Alona, with his head tipped sideways and a quizzical look. “You hate me,” he grates out.
“Listen carefully, you dick, I am a pro. One of the best there is. You may think I’m here to make the coffee but that is only a fraction of the career that I excel at and I am not about to fail because my boss is a bully. I’ve made it this far and I’ve been good. I’ve been fucking excellent, admit it.” Her eyebrows are raised and she’s looking smug. If Jeff has finally been baited to his breaking point by Jared so has she and right now she can’t see anything threatening about him. “I am an old-school P.A. and by convention an assistant sticks by her employer through everything. If the ship goes down, I go down with it. From what I’ve seen today, there appears to be a rupture in the hull of our vessel and I think we should be bailing out together.”
“Huh.” His surprise is evident and he nods slowly. “Get me home Al.”
Alona has shocked even herself but she’s already planning all the ways in which her boss will suffer if she has to put up with another passion-free evening. She dismisses the notion of sending Jared home in his limousine and waits for Misha to arrive.
Part 7
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