Big Bang 2012: Love Lies Burning. 9/24
It is early afternoon and Alona should be enjoying her Jared-free day, instead she is thoroughly pissed off. She would resign but it would only be satisfying if she could do it in person, and Jared is locked away in his home. Today she has been thrown out of Jared’s house without so much as a cab being called. She’s been shouted at by Misha for not returning with his papers signed. Jeff has called her in to ask what his brother has told her and been ‘disappointed’ with her when she admitted that he hasn’t said anything. Not that she’d have told, the asshole could have put Jared in hospital and all he’s concerned about is his reputation.
Now, she has some jumped up young detective asking her about Jeff and Jared’s cars and Jared’s schedule. The lawyer is sitting in on the conversation and jumping in to argue with the cop at every turn. Currently there is heated debate about co-operation and the time it will take to get a search warrant for car pool records and the small key safe in Alona’s care. She doesn’t realize she’s switched off from it all until the detective repeats her name loudly, “Ms Tal?”
She turns bored brown eyes on the detective.
“I was asking who else has access to the key safe.”
“That would be me, Jared and Jeff.”
“And everyone has to sign the keys in and out and account for the mileage?”
“Yes. Except for Jeff and Jared, they have keys to their own cars. Sometimes Jared forgets to note his mileage but it’s obvious if everyone else keeps note, besides he hasn’t used his in months. He lives nearby and there was always the limo.”
“Where do you keep your key to the safe Ms Tal?”
“I have it in my purse. Mr Padalecki, Jared, doesn’t like to keep it in the office overnight.”
“Can you show me?”
She takes a shiny steel key from a zipped compartment in her purse and holds it up.
“Is this the original? Have you ever lost it or lent it to anybody?”
She looks to the lawyer and he nods for her to continue, “No. This is the only one. I’ve never given it to anybody else to look after.”
Detective Pearson produces a plastic bag and looks at the legal man. There is a brief non-verbal communication and the lawyer grits his teeth and nods his assent, “If you’d like to drop it in here, Miss.”
“You already have the keys. You took them with the cars.”
“Yes, we have.” The tone is dismissive and Alona suddenly wonders about the direction the interview is taking.
“I don’t drive, I never took lessons,” she says quickly, with a flush to her cheeks.
“We know Ms Tal, we checked.”
There is implication in the way he speaks the words and Alona understands for the first time, why the lawyer is being so careful. The P.A. wonders what the forensic search of the cars has revealed, because it’s definitely not nothing. Her head begins to throb and she needs air.
“Are we done?” she asks.
“Almost. Tell me Ms Tal, what was your employer, Jared Padalecki’s initial reaction to the fire at Linden?”
She swallows and tells a careful truth, “He was angry and surprised. He wondered why his schedule had changed, I had to tell him. He was relieved that none of the emergency responders had been harmed tackling it.”
Pearson is assessing her as she speaks, “We may need to have more details about that but we’ll finish there. If you think of anything else, then be sure to contact me,” he hands her his business card.
He grabs his coat from the hook by the door, “One more thing. What color would you describe Jared’s car as?”
Alona was baffled by the question. “Charcoal or grey, I guess,” she answered.
“Just curious.”
The detective swings out of the room and the lawyer hangs back for a moment to say, “You don’t speak to anybody about anything to do with this without representation. Are we clear?”
“We’re clear. What should I tell Mr. Padalecki about it, sir?”
“I believe he’s ill. It’s best not to bother him at the moment, Ms Tal.”
“Okay.”
Alona collapses in her chair and rubs her temples. The small throb is growing into a monster headache. She needs a break and somebody who will sympathise with her. She heads on over to the managing director’s office where she knows that Kim will always take five minutes to gossip with her.
The sun is beginning to sink in the sky as Sophia shifts on sore feet in the sparse office of the Market Street Shelter. She has walked further than she normally would, even when she’s working. The lady who greeted her had been pretty, a tall blonde lady and she had smiled and said Sophia would have to see the manager. The manager is tall, muscular and slightly intimidating, with shoulder length dark hair and deep blue eyes. He doesn’t look thrilled to see Sophia. He sticks out his hand and she shakes it, “Christian Kane,” he says with a thick Texas drawl. “Katie tells me that you’re looking for somebody.” Sophia hands him a flyer with Jen’s description. “I was wondering if you’ve seen this man.”
Chris gives it a cursory glance, “Wouldn’t be tellin’ you if we had miss, no offence. You know that the police are looking for him? Perhaps you should check with them. I’ve given them what help I can. You understand that the nature of our work, we have to build trust. We can’t go talking personal business to just anyone. Most people on the street have a reason that they’re there.”
Sophia looks crushed. Jensen has not been in Padalecki Gardens for over a week now and she is worried about the homeless man. She called in sick for the afternoon and has been walking the streets ever since, hoping for a glance of Sadie or Jen and retracing his footsteps best she could. She wishes she had asked more questions about where he was from and where he goes but he always seemed so private. Her shoulders sag. “Oh.” She doesn’t know what else to say.
Christian is momentarily stumped. He was expecting a threat, a comeback or a plea. “What? Hasn’t Aunt Dorothy died and left him something in his will? Aren’t you from the insurance company?”
“No,” she says. “I’m just,” her brow deepens as she thinks about it, “I’m a friend.”
Christian looks doubtful. “You can leave a message here in case he turns up.”
“Will you give it to him?” She sounds hopeful.
“He’s never stayed here, but if I do see him, yeah.” It’s not a lie but Christian is being cautious. He has no idea what situation Jen is in but the police have not been the only ones to ask after him in the last two days. Christian has been working this gig for a while and he knows the reek of trouble when he smells it. The cops were pleasant enough but the second man who had called claiming to be an insurance investigator was a fraud. Christian didn’t believe that the stocky man with the sparkling eyes and whiskers was on the level about Jen’s family searching for him either. There is no reason for this lady to be telling the truth, even if she is very pretty and seems genuinely concerned. Sophia pats down her pocket for her notebook and Christian notices, for the first time, that she’s in some sort of uniform. “How did you say you met this man?”
“Jen has a spot on my beat. I said ‘Hello’ to him every day for months and he never seemed to notice me, but one day I put a ticket on a very annoyed deaf lady’s car and he came to my rescue. I never knew sign language could get so angry and she just got angrier and angrier. I don’t know what he said to her but she ripped up the ticket and drove away and I let the city deal with it. He was shaken up so I took him for coffee at the diner and he showed me some signing. We’ve been doing it ever since, every week day, at the same time. It was our routine until he disappeared a few days ago.” She is writing on the paper as she speaks, “There’s the address of another coffee house and a couple of street names on my beat. If he can’t go to our normal place then he can find me at these. Tell him Sophia misses him and that I’m here to help, if he needs me,” she writes her name. “Tell him I met Chad today when I was looking for him and Chad’s worried too. He says he must come back for a swim anytime, no questions asked. Jen’s real shy, not so good at communicating but he can hear, so you need to make sure he’s focused on what you’re saying, or that he gets the note.”
“Sophia and Chad,” Christian speaks slowly, he has a faint memory of a list in Jen’s journal, where he has written Christian’s name. The names are not very common and he is sure they were there, above his. She seems to know a lot about Jen, not just his habits but his personality too. Christian pauses before taking a chance, “You can come back and check. You can put your feet up, I’ll make you a cup of coffee and we’ll compare notes.” He’s baring his teeth in a genuine pearly white grin.
Sophia seems to appreciate the thaw in Christian’s attitude, she gives him a bright smile in return and her eyes linger. “I will.” she says.
Christian watches her as she exits and walks away. He thinks the view from behind is as good as the view of Sophia’s face and she has exceptional legs. He may have voiced that opinion because Katie swipes him around the head with her hand and calls him a dirty dog, even while she continues to stare.
It’s not Christian’s turn to drive the soup van but he volunteers. If he’s honest he’s not sure if he’s more eager to help Jen or to help Sophia by helping Jen. She does have wickedly good pins that go all the way to her finely formed ass.
It’s evening and Jared is in his studio. There’s a bottle of beer in his hand and a small but detailed painting of blossom in a vase, drying on the table. He smoothes out the pastel he drew, days before, and clips it to the easel to study it. The man with his dog is not his best work, but that is not important. He’s remembering the subject’s elegant fingers, freckled skin and intense eyes. Jen’s not short by any means. Jared estimates that he’s over six foot and well built, but he thinks that his arm would loop around the silent man’s waist, and the soft golden-brown crown of hair would tuck comfortably under his chin when they embraced. The hands would be gentle, yet demanding. They would slide his jacket off, pop the buttons on his shirt and slide the zipper of his pants with a tease while those soft lips followed behind, sucking and tonguing at the sensitive flesh of his chest, over his abs and along the trail of his hips all the way to… He shakes his head in frustration and palms at the twitching interest in his groin. Has Jen ever had to sell those lips to survive? He wonders what it would cost. Of all the fantasies that he has had, this has to be the most insane but he has money and the man has already been in his bed.
Jared cuts his own thoughts dead. He’s disgusted with himself for wanting the roughness of a weird, homeless, nobody. He swings his chair to face the portrait that was formerly on the bedroom wall and raises the brown glass bottle to it “Cheers,” he says and takes a long, satisfying swig. He doesn’t look away, stays and stares morosely at it.
Jared’s telephone and cellphone are lighting up at regular intervals but he’s turned the sound off. He can guess that Jeff is still swearing at the faceless voice of his message service. Fucker deserved it. He can hear Misha pounding on his front door, alternately shouting and then pleading with him for access. He finishes his beer before he allows his friend in.
“What the hell have you been doing all day Jay?” Misha sounds angry and Jared thinks it is unfair of him in the circumstances.
“I painted, drank beer.” He has a loose limbed gait and the words run into each other.
“You fucked with Jeff, you stupid fucker. You didn’t have to screw with his wife too.”
“I did.” Jared smirks and raises his eyebrows in a so what if I did gesture.
“Because Lacey already knew about his affair, and she never did anything to you. You didn’t have to rub her nose in it.”
“Then I guess none of ‘em is gonna to mind being on the cover of Gossip News this week, especially not Danneel. Imagine the publicity for Nana’s.”
“Christ! You didn’t?”
“Did.”
“And what about Padalecki Inc., you moron?”
“What about it. Do you think I care?”
“What the hell? Are you still on those painkillers? I told Lorretta to get rid of them.”
“There are no drugs in my system. Just beer.” Jared grabs his friend by his hand and pulls him into the kitchen to ply him with a beer. “Lighten up Misha. You’re no fun these days.”
Misha splutters so hard that beer exits through his nose and Jared starts to laugh. “You are truly disgusting man.”
His friend’s eyes are as wide as saucers. “Did you get laid or something.”
Jared flushes and his eyes flicker away from his friend’s face. He’s sober enough to know that this is dangerous ground. No, but I think I got kissed by a stalker who broke into my home when I was incapable, and it tasted just perfect, is not an acceptable answer in any circumstance.
“I haven’t done any painting in so long, it felt good.”
Misha wipes his face with a tissue and blows his nose, he looks serious. “This is just one day, right. You’ll get your groove back tomorrow and we’ll be back on top of it all. Yeah?”
“What are you not hearing Misha? I got my groove back right now.”
“No! You haven’t. Two years, Jay, two years, to give the finger to those bastards, to take what they said you could never have. I have poured everything into this and you’re not going to flake on me now.”
There is a hint of cold rage in Misha’s manner and Jared gets it, he does, because Misha had put him back together whenever his father had torn him apart, but his own anger is kindled too, “Don’t ever say that about my brother. Don’t ever compare him to our father!”
“Why not, Jay? Tell me. Jeff accepts you are gay. He bought your rainbow flag, but look at you. You never stopped being his punch bag. He’s never believed in you, Jay, he will always put you down, take from you. Not like me. You and me and Padalecki Inc., man! A few more weeks and you can have everything they never wanted you to have. This is revenge and it feels good, don’t lose it now.”
“What if I don’t want revenge?”
“You keep telling yourself that Jared. When Jeff and Danneel are on the cover of Gossip News, you carry on telling yourself that. How about when you’re penniless and homeless? How about then? Huh!”
The fight goes out of Jared. He knows that Misha is only looking out for him and he’s behaving like a dick. “Right. Yeah, you’re right. M’just sore. You do know that I won’t actually be penniless, right? I can earn a decent wage.”
Misha relaxes too. He finishes the contents of his bottle and pats Jared on his back in a supportive gesture, “How about you rest and do some more arty things this evening and I’ll see you in the morning. Alona’s got some make up that will cover the worst of the bruising on your face.”
“No! Jeez. No make up. I tripped on a chair remember?”
“Nasty things, those chairs!”
“Go home, Mish.”
“Gone!” The blue eyed man blows him a sarcastic kiss as he leaves the house.
It’s quiet when he leaves, too quiet. Jared is waiting for something to happen but he’s not sure what. He settles in his office chair and absent-mindedly pulls up financial details and business plans. There’s a quiet ‘ting’ and he notices that there are emails in his inbox. There’s one from Claire in accounts, about a glitch in the finance system. It’s trivial and out of place, but it has been forwarded by Ash in I.T., with the words “Catch you later.”
Jared reads the three words that are familiar code to him and holds his breath as he opens the very private e-mail account he keeps. Sure enough, there is mail from Ash, marked ‘confidential’ and ‘priority’. He tries to work out what the technical jargon means and thinks he only half succeeds. He replies, forwards it again, this time to Jim Beaver and decides to look at it properly later. He twirls in his chair before sucking in breath and considering the jarring gaps on the walls. His inner sanctum has been breached and there’s not a trace that the man was here, except emptiness. It’s a fitting comparison. He shuts down his computer and paces back to his studio where he stands and considers his collection. Three years his life has been on hold and maybe its time for a change. He cradles the proud bronze wolf in his arms and carries it through to the living room, where he considers the light and the composition before placing it with care.
It is 9.30 p.m. when he holds the last piece in his arms. He always loved this portrait of Matt, twisted in silk sheets, serene in the afterglow of sex, with heavy lidded eyes ready to close for sleep. Matt has never seen it and if Jared is honest it is a work of fantasy. It’s a realistic pose but the eyes had never continued to shut entirely. They had always snapped open with guilt before Matt dressed in a hurry and left Jared with a quick kiss on the cheek and a compliment. Jared is grateful in a way because if it had been true love he wouldn’t have been able to give it up, and there is no doubt that he wouldn’t be in the position of power that he is today. He places the work on a flat surface and breaks the seal of the frame. He slips the canvas out from under the glass and rolls it with care before sliding it into a tube, in storage, and closing the door on it. He works on a plain card frame for today’s creation of still life and scattered petals and leaves his pastel sketch and Jen’s nude resting on the easel together. He has a light supper and dims the lights. He watches raindrops spatter against the glass of his window, they roll in clinging lines and gather with the hypnotic beat of a steady downpour.
Christian comes with the soup van at 10.00 p.m. and it’s unexpected but Jensen knows that sometimes they change the routine. They are mostly volunteers and he supposes they have lives with families and dogs and cats and hamsters.
Jensen lets Sadie nose her way out of the darkened doorway in which he stands, to wag her tail and cast eyes of rich liquid brown, at Christian and his friends. There’s a chill in the air and an icy edge to the raindrops and gloom. An assortment of men and women in dirty layers, gloves and scarves, huddle together. They are already vying for the best spot, near the steaming urns. There’s yells and bawdy jokes, cackling laughter and reminders to make a line. Jensen hangs back and hopes that Christian has seen Sadie. The tramp is shivering, wearing less layers than usual. Today he has washed his outer clothes in the cold water of his basement squat. Running water is a luxury he may not have for long, so for now his outer-clothes hang dripping from the bathroom rails. He needs to be clean. It’s a virtue and one that it is all too easy for him to forget. He doesn’t always notice if he smells or has dirt on his fingers so it is important for him to check every day. It is difficult to maintain since he has been avoiding the swimming pool, yet for some reason it has also become more important since he has got close to Jared. Jared has a smell that is intoxicating and Jared likes Jensen, Jared kissed him. When Jensen was young his mother and stepfather wanted to hug and kiss him but it was constricting and unpleasant and he could see no reason to like it. Jared’s kiss was different. Jensen can’t describe why it was special. Just that it was, and he wants to do it again.
Jensen is startled by Christian’s voice, right next to him. The van has moved on and yet the man sits beside him on the shiny tiled step in the wide doorway of a nondescript building. He is proffering a cup of thick, hot soup and a bread roll. Sadie is munching on some sort of bone shaped treat. Jensen tunes into the conversation but he’s not sure how long Christian has been speaking.
“…need you to help me, man because she’s all sorts of fine and apparently she is your friend so I need you to give me a clue.”
Jensen blinks and frowns in concentration. Christian is on his ‘friends’ list so he remembers to look at his face and watch his expressions and movement. It’s not helping in this instance. He reaches to Christian’s arm and touches it gently, to stop him, and then shakes his head in obvious confusion.
Christian offers up the food and Jensen puts his left palm flat in front of him, the fingers of his right hand descend to touch his left palm ‘again’ he signs then takes his food politely. He knows better than to snatch, he has been taught manners.
“Oh. Sophia came by the Shelter today.” Christian speaks clearly and makes sure he is facing Jensen. He wants to keep his attention. “She’s a meter maid. She has these amazing dark eyes and brown hair and legs that go right up to her ass. Is she a friend of yours?”
Jensen nods assent. He thinks she probably is.
“Hey dude! You are a popular guy. She says she’s missing you and so is Chad at the swimming pool. She gave me a note for you.” He passes the folded notepaper and lets the hobo read it all. He pets Sadie while he waits for Jen’s attention to come back to him. The next part of the conversation is serious and he wants to be sure that Jen acknowledges it. “Jen there’s been other people asking about you. Is there something you need help with?”
Jensen thinks about the question. He’s not sure what it means. There are lots of things that he could have help with but they are vey ordinary and nobody has worried about them in the past. He shakes his head slowly.
“Jen, has anybody threatened you or tried to hurt you?”
He shakes his head again.
“No, good,” Christian says with a small sigh of relief, “Okay, well, I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?” he waits for the nod and continues, “We don’t just have beds to sleep in at the shelter. We have classes to help people get their GED and ways of helping people find housing. We’ve also got some workers who help us, care professionals, health workers and community police. Some of them have legal or counselling qualifications.”
Jen has turned pale and looks as if he is about to bolt and Christian speaks quickly, “None of them will force you to come inside if you don’t want to. They don’t do that. What I have to tell you is that the cops have been looking for you.” Jen is trembling and flexing his knees to stand. “Wait! They want you to know you’re not in trouble. Not at all, but they will have to speak to you and I have told them it should be somewhere that you decide, at a time you’ve agreed and somebody from the shelter should be with you, or a friend. Maybe Sophia or Chad could be there? I would if you wanted.”
Jen is shaking his head wildly and stands and starts backing into the farthest dark corner of the doorway.
Christian decides to take another direction and hopes that Jen is as bright as he seems. “They are worried for your safety but they can’t take you away and they won’t take Sadie from you if you can show that you can cope on your own. I know you can, you are strong and independent and they’ll see it too. You can wait until they take you from the street to talk to you at the precinct or you can choose to come into the shelter and we can make them wait until you’re ready and then help you to talk to them, organize a sign interpreter for you. Will you come into the shelter? It is a safe place.”
It’s a lot to take in and a big question to answer. He’s not sure who to trust and he hasn’t had to have a proper discussion or make any big decisions in a very long time. He’s insecure and uncertain. There’s a rocking motion starting at his hips and working through him, building in rhythm.
“Damn,” Christian mutters, “Jen, stop! Look at me! You don’t have to give an answer now. It’s enough if you think about it. Please think about it.”
The only reply is the sound of Jen’s tattered shoes slapping the wet sidewalk as he gathers Sadie’s leash and flees into the night.
Part 10
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