Aldrich gave a decisive nod. Having chosen a course of action, there was no point in waiting. He picked up the phone and dialled.
As it rang, he drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk, waiting for an answer. Some might view his plan as a severe step, but it was necessary in order to re-establish the fact that Dollar Niche was not a company to be toyed with.
If memory served him correctly, Eddie was a squeamish sort. The man’s reaction to this new business plan might even prove to be mildly amusing. Idly, Aldrich thought Eddie’s career choice was definitely at odds with his personality; the man would have done better if he’d followed the elder Perini’s career path and become a part time preacher. Bilking people out of their hard earned money with promises of salvation didn’t involve any ‘rough stuff.’
Finally, the phone was answered, but a clattering noise met Aldrich’s ear as if whoever was picking it up wasn’t really paying attention and had fumbled the receiver. The sounds of a sports announcer drifted over the line and then, after some delay, an actual voice spoke.
“Eddie Perini. What can I do for you?” The man’s casual answer let Aldrich know Eddie hadn’t checked who was calling before answering. He sighed; still the same old Eddie, he thought to himself, always thinking life was a lark. They’d grown up in the same neighbourhood; giving Eddie the job of managing the company had been an uncharacteristic spur of the moment decision based on that long ago friendship. Well, he’d known it before and this just reinforced the fact that sentimentality had no place in business.
“Edward, this is Leon Aldrich speaking.” Aldrich chuckled to himself, knowing the use of the man’s formal name would rattle the fellow; memories of Mama Perini bellowing down the street drifted by while Eddie tried to gather his composure.
“Uh... Leon...er...Mr. Aldrich, sir. How are you? Nice of you to call.”
Aldrich could hear the nervousness in the man’s voice and mentally formed the image of Eddie sitting up straighter and shuffling the papers on his desk into some semblance of order as if the disorganized office could actually be viewed through the phone. Good. The man had been lazy in carrying out his duties and deserved to sweat a little.
“I’ve been going over the accounts and see no improvement since the last time we talked.”
“Well...that’s not precisely true, Leon.”
Aldrich raised his brows at the man’s denial and leaned back in his chair. “I beg to differ. My representative is in Vegas at this very moment, checking out the situation. Word on the street is that Dollar Niche is seen as an easy mark.”
Eddie didn’t answer immediately, no doubt realizing a noose was closing in around him. “I wouldn’t say that exactly. I...I’ve gathered a number of new clients—”
“Profitable clients? Or just men who use Dollar Niche because it’s seen as a pushover?”
“No. Of course not. They’ve made their payments!”
“Paltry sums, Edward. These individuals have borrowed substantial amounts from the company and have reaped the benefits of our generosity. Repayment—swift repayment—is needed if the company is to make a profit.” He kept his voice slow and calm, knowing the raspy sound was more effective that way. At least the damned tracheotomy was good for something, he mused.
“Well... Some of these people don’t have that much lying around, you know. They pay off what they can.”
“Edward, we are not running a charity. People always claim to be hard up. If sufficient incentive is applied, they find the needed resources.”
“We pressure them, Leon...er...sir.”
“Perhaps your concept of pressure is different from mine, because what I envision as pressure would have yielded much greater results than those I see on the page before me.”
“Uh... Exactly what are you getting at?”
“I need you to set an example. To show your clients you mean business. Choose someone and make sure everyone knows what happens when a person falls behind in their payments.”
“You mean—” The man’s gulp was audible over the phone line.
“I mean you do what is necessary, Edward, to make a lasting impression. This company has been falling apart over the past few years. I admit it’s partially my own fault. You obviously weren’t up to the job...” He heard Eddie sputtering protests, but ignored the attempted interruption. “And I didn’t take sufficient notice of the quarterly reports. However, that is all water under the bridge. The situation will be reversed or someone will be held accountable. I don’t think I need to spell out who, do I Edward?”
“No, sir.” The answer was given as part of a heavy sigh.
Aldrich smiled coldly. “As long as we understand each other. Goodbye, Edward. I’ll be in touch.” He hung up the phone and leaned back in the chair. All that talking had been exhausting. Rotating his shoulders to ease the tension, he contemplated his next move. Perhaps, he’d go find Sylvia; she still kept the quaint British custom of afternoon tea...
*****
Hanging up the phone, Eddie Perini rubbed his hands over his face. God, he wasn’t cut out for this. He could do the lending, fake a tough guy voice and issue threats to a mark, but carrying them out had never been his strong point. Having a guy roughed up a bit was one thing, but doing serious bodily damage or going after a guy’s family...?
He looked around the room for inspiration, but found none. The place looked like it came from some Hollywood B-movie; worn furniture, dull paint, the air stale with smoke. Beyond this office, the ‘waiting room’ wasn’t much better, consisting of a few chairs lining the hallway. Yeah, it was pretty shoddy, but a high-class place wouldn’t draw in the type of customers they serviced.
Sure, Dollar Niche wasn’t making the profits it did a few years back, but there was a bloody recession going on! Even a shady business like this one was feeling the pinch. He cursed Leon for sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong. The guy sat in some ivory tower surrounded by money and had no idea what happened in the real world. If they started beating up all the clients, people would hear about it and new marks would shy away.
Eddie sighed. It was no use complaining. Aldrich was a bastard and if he didn’t follow through, he’d be in big trouble; at best losing his job, at worst... Well, he didn’t want to think about that.
Rumours about Leon had grown over the years. The man had clawed his way up from the streets they’d both lived on to the position of a big time lawyer who worked almost exclusively for a multi-millionaire. When said millionaire had been killed in an accidental shooting, it came as no surprise to Eddie that the gun had been in Aldrich’s hand, though no blame had ever been laid. That, combined with whisperings of how Aldrich had helped make certain individuals ‘disappear’ made people exercise extreme caution when dealing with the man. No one knew for certain exactly what he was capable of doing and no one was anxious to find out, either.
Pulling a thick file forward, Eddie flipped through the pages, scanning the lists of names. He had to make an example of someone, but who? And how? Aldrich had insinuated serious injury or maybe even death. Eddie’s stomach lurched at the idea. He wasn’t into blood and had no desire to spend time in jail for murder. Maybe he should have become a part-time preacher like his father... Nah, he liked having his weekends free.
Focussing on the list in front of him, he muttered under his breath. He had no idea who he should choose. Deciding to let fate make the choice, he closed his eyes and stabbed the page randomly with his finger. Okay, this was the guy. Eddie stared at the name and screwed up his face, trying to picture who the man was, but nothing came to mind.
Shrugging philosophically, he picked up the phone to call Hugh, his recently acquired ‘muscle.’ He’d hired Hugh just a few weeks ago. The man had appeared at the office one day and before Eddie was even sure how it had happened, Hugh was working for him. Not that he minded. Hugh liked doing the leg work, checking up on clients, giving them a bit of a squeeze; Eddie preferred to hang around the office in the air conditioning
.
Hugh hadn’t had much to do yet beyond shaking someone by the scruff of the neck, a fact he often bemoaned. Apparently, Hugh appreciated opportunities to flex his muscles. Well, this would be his chance.
“Hugh? Eddie here. I’ve got a job for you.”
The man on the other end of the line grunted and Eddie took that to mean Hugh was listening. Either that or he’d just woken up.
“Yeah, the big boss wants us to make an example of somebody. He thinks we’re being too easy on the clients.”
Hugh’s grunt was more enthusiastic than last time. Hugh liked action.
“So I need you to track down this guy for me, and bring him in. We’re going to give him an ultimatum and if he can’t keep it... Well, people will know that if you don’t pay up, Dollar Niche means business.”
He listened as Hugh gave his approval of the plan.
“What’s that? Oh yeah, the poor sucker’s name. It’s...uh...” Eddie checked the name he’d randomly picked. “It’s Anderson. Kellen Anderson.”
*****
Cassie got off the bus and hurried home, anxious to speak to Kellen. It was obvious to her now that he’d been purposely avoiding her, rather than just a serendipitous series of events keeping them apart. She fumed wondering what kind of a mess he was in and how much he owed. In the past, she’d relented and paid off his debts, all the while scolding him for borrowing money he couldn’t repay. Afterwards he was always repentant, staying on the straight and narrow for a period of time but then falling into the same trap again. He’d meet new friends, start spending evenings ‘out with the guys’...
She shook her head. Those nights out always led to trouble. She sighed heavily. They’d moved to a smaller house where they had to pay less rent, given up having a car and now relied on public transportation. Second hand stores and yard sales were frequented, yet still money was tight and Kellen just couldn’t see it and her patience was growing thin. Kellen needed to be responsible. He needed to control himself.
The few people that knew about Kellen’s gambling in the past had hinted that she’d be better off without him. Mr. Bartlett had said as much just today when she asked to leave early. There’d been a pitying look in his eyes...
“When you bail him out, you’re just enabling him.” The older man had said. “You need to let him hit rock bottom. That’s the only way to make him realize how big his problem is and that he needs to get professional help.”
She’d thanked him for his concern, but didn’t know if she could really turn her back on Kellen. Sure, she threatened to let him figure it out for himself, but he’d done so much for her in the past. Wasn’t supporting him a way to pay back his kindness?
Rounding the corner, she saw that Kellen’s bike was gone and frowned. Had she missed him? Perhaps he’d parked it out back to tinker on it. The machine was old and always in need of some type of repair.
Climbing the steps, she tried the front door. It was locked. Sighing, she pulled out her key and let herself in. Kellen wasn’t home. A glance in the kitchen revealed that he hadn’t left a note on the message board, not that she’d really expected one. He’d been disappearing on his own a lot lately, only speaking in general terms of being out with friends. In reality, that meant out gambling. And for the past few days... Well, she had no idea where he was. His bed was slept in and dirty dishes were in the sink, but other than that, there was no sign of him. She rolled her eyes; so much for his great show of repentance the other night.
Cassie wandered into the living room and stuck her hands in her back pockets. Well, she’d wait for him. He had to come home sooner or later. In the meantime... She looked around. The living room was still relatively tidy, so perhaps she’d keep herself busy doing laundry.
As she gathered clothes from the bedrooms, she thought about the man she’d seen at the grocery store and wondered why he bothered her so much. It went beyond the fact that he might be a thug. His very presence had set her whole body on edge and had the creature inside her pacing restlessly, whining and eager to be set loose.
A frisson of fear swept over her at the thought of the beast escaping the tight reins she kept on it. Her body was already in a constant state of tension, always on guard, after the slip-up in the back yard the other day. She was careful of her thoughts and tried to avoid letting her mind drift for fear the creature might surface and gain the upper hand. At night she only allowed herself to sleep lightly, in case deep slumber allowed the wolf to sneak past her defences. And now this man appeared, stirring the animal up, exciting it...
Yes, he’s the one. He’s the answer... The words whispered in her mind and she was almost tempted to question the creature. What ‘one?’ The answer to what?
It was utter nonsense of course. Why would she waste her time talking to an animal? Clamping her mouth tightly shut, she headed to the laundry room, her arms full of dirty clothing. Absentmindedly, she sorted the items by colour and checked pockets, frowning as she pulled loose change, matches, and a crumpled note from Kellen’s jeans. Why he couldn’t remember to empty his pockets before dumping his clothes in the laundry? After all, he was supposedly the expert. She’d just learned how to do laundry a few years ago, yet here she was... Her train of thought screeched to a halt as she glanced at the note in her hand. She felt her eyes widen. He owed how much...?
Cassie actually stumbled backward in shock. Fifty thousand dollars! What was he thinking to borrow that amount? She looked around the room and then at the note again, hoping she’d been wrong. No. It was still the same number of zeroes.
Her legs felt wobbly and she sat down on the small stool that was in the room. Oh God. This was way more than the usual amount. It wasn’t a few thousand that he’d racked up playing small time poker with his friends.
She stared at the note for a few minutes before crumpling it in her hand and swearing under her breath. Kellen had promised her he’d never get deeply into debt again, like he’d been when they’d first met. By maxing out her credit cards and emptying all her accounts, she’d been able to pay off what he’d owed three years ago and still have a tidy nest egg left over, but this... This would take almost everything she had saved!
Anger surged inside her. That was her money in the bank; her safety net in case she ever needed to run. Why should she use it to bail Kellen out again? No. She wouldn’t do it. Kellen had gone too far this time. Mr. Bartlett was right. If she kept rescuing him, he’d never learn; the cycle would never be broken.
Shaking with a combination of hurt, anger, and shock, she stumbled into the living room and sat down on the sofa, facing the door. She’d wait right here and confront him as soon as he stepped in the door.
Damn the man! How dare he mess up her life this way? Wasn’t it enough that she had to deal with being a werewolf? Well, this certainly explained the man at the grocery store. If Kellen owed this much money, the loan shark would be wanting weekly payments and wouldn’t be adverse to applying any kind of pressure needed to ensure Kellen coughed up the amount. No wonder the creature inside her was fighting to get out. The man at the store obviously represented danger!
A niggle of doubt worked its way into her resolve to let Kellen take the fall for his own actions. Could she stand by and let Kellen get hurt? She nibbled on her lip. Not really. But that didn’t mean she’d pay off the loan shark for him. No, once she knew the facts and if there really were threats being made against Kellen or herself, she’d contact the authorities.
The beast inside her whimpered and Cassie acknowledged that it had good cause. She’d been living her life under the radar for three years now. Her fake identity as Sandy Grant had served her well, but then again, it hadn’t come under close scrutiny either. And her use of drugs—not quite street drugs, but illegally purchased none the less—wasn’t something she wanted brought to light.
An angry snarl erupted from her mouth, surprising her. Even though it was just days until the full moon, the creature had never done that before. Nervously, she clenched
her fists on the arm of the chair exerting more inner control. It was getting stronger, fighting against the restrictions she placed on it. Would she have to take medication daily to keep it under control?
Another discontented growl rose within her. The animal hated the drugs. They were a chemically induced jail that kept it from roaming as it wished. But necessary, she argued with herself, thinking of the panic that had overwhelmed her just days ago. Las Vegas was highly populated and werewolves were dangerous. It—she—they—could kill someone. Hadn’t she seen the power and destruction a creature such as herself was capable of with her own eyes?
She bit her lip as another idea crossed her mind. If Kellen wasn’t here, how would she get her pills? There were enough for another few months, but then... Thoughts whirled in her mind as she contemplated all the implications of Kellen’s gambling debt. Any course of action she took would have far reaching consequences. Leaning her head back against the cushions, she closed her eyes and massaged her temples with her finger tips as she tried to reason her way through the situation.
*****
Bryan padded down the street, pausing to sniff at each bus stop. So far no one had given him a second glance, probably thinking he was someone’s pet husky that had escaped from a backyard. He paused at a corner and sat down in the shade cast by a mailbox, panting from the excessive late afternoon heat. Las Vegas was no place for a wolf. His fur coat served him well in the cooler Canadian climate or even in the north western United States where he’d grown up, but this was ridiculous. Once he found Cassandra, he promised himself a large, cold drink.
At least it was cooler now than it had been in the middle of the afternoon. From all he’d heard, the temperatures would continue to drop as night approached. He squinted up at the sky, judging it to be around supper time. His stomach growled in concurrence and he thought longingly of the fast food restaurant that was directly across from his motel.
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