Down and Dirty

by Taylor Holloway

  “She likes you,” I told him, thinking that was the best endorsement for my cousin Nathan that could possibly exist.

  Nathan grinned.

  19

  Jenna

  “Excuse me, miss Jenna? Can I clean in here tonight?” Ida, the evening office cleaner asked.

  “Yes, thank you so much Ida. I’m just leaving,” I replied. You know you work late a lot when you’re on a first name basis with the woman who doesn’t even come to work until nine o’clock at night.

  “Oh no rush,” she replied, taking in the sight of stacks of paper, two open laptops, and a tablet on my desk, “I’ll come back to your office in twenty minutes when I’m done with this floor. Oh, and congratulations on your promotion. It’s a very nice office.” She smiled at me, and I reciprocated proudly.

  It was a long first day back in the office. I was still working on my new projects until late into the evening. Even Richard went home before me, around eight p.m. I didn’t have a chance to examine the hard copy files that Fiona brought up until long after sunset. When I did, I was very disappointed by what I found.

  The documents that were in the files were not the ones that I needed at all. In fact, although his name was on the label, they were not even Nicholas’ documents. They weren’t even really documents. Fiona had pulled the correct files, but someone had tampered with them. These appeared to be random pieces of paper that someone fished out of a recycling bin somewhere and shoved in a folder. There was a receipt from a Subway, a shopping list for office supplies, a few fax coversheets, and about a hundred pages of a particularly dull prospectus on a company that produces shampoo and conditioner in Indonesia that Durant Industries acquired several years back. In other words, it was junk.

  Reluctant to spend time in the spooky basement, but now more curious than ever, I made my way down to the document archive in the building. Only a few people were still in the building at this hour, so the trip down the elevator was blessedly short and quiet. The one drawback that I was discovering came with my new position was that working on the top floor of the building meant stopping on all of the lower floors every time I needed to go down. Rumor was that those in C-suite actually had an override key that let them go straight on down without stopping, but I was just a lowly VP; there was still plenty of ladder left for me to climb.

  As I was about to badge into the file room, a text arrived from my mom:

  Jenna, are you home from your trip? Please let me know. I’m worried about you.

  I covered my mouth with my hand, dismayed. In all the drama and distraction created by Nicholas, I had completely forgotten to tell my mom that I was back. I dialed her number as I entered the file room.

  “Hi mom,” I said when she picked up, “I’m so sorry I forgot to text that I was home. I’m just fine. Totally safe.”

  “Oh, thank goodness!” She exclaimed, her thick southern accent coming through loud and clear despite twenty-five years spent on the east coast, “You know I get worried.”

  “I know mom, I’m really sorry,” I told her genuinely. Now that Nana was gone, we were all that was left of our family. We talked almost every day. My mom was my best friend, and I wasn’t too proud to admit it.

  “Where did you go?” She asked me, “Are you allowed to tell me yet?”

  I smirked. It seemed like I’d been answering the same damn question all day.

  “No, I can’t, sorry mom. I don’t get to tell anybody where I went. I know it sounds weird, but I’m totally fine and I don’t want you to worry,” I answered. We’d been through this before—several times—but my mom couldn’t seem to accept it any more than Richard could.

  “Oh, alright honey,” my mom said after sighing loudly, “I suppose you have to keep your word. I just hated the idea that they would send you off somewhere without anyone knowing how to get in touch with you. I hope they don’t ever do that again.”

  “I don’t think they will,” I replied, “because I just got promoted! I’m the new VP of Research and Development.”

  I could hear my mom gasp and squeal in joy through the phone, and I grinned as I walked through the quiet file room. I’d decided to return the files that Fiona had pulled, and see if there was anything else that could help me in my quest to determine what the hell was going on with Nicholas Durant.

  “Congratulations!” She finally managed, and then I heard her yelling at her new husband, “Bob! Bob! Jenna got promoted!”

  They were both over the moon with happiness for me.

  “Jenna honey,” my mom continued, “I’m going to bake you a chocolate cream cake to celebrate.”

  I stifled my laugh at her predictability. My mom’s response to practically any celebration or tragedy was baking. Not that I was complaining. I got to reap the delicious benefits. One day I was going to get my mom to teach me how to cook. I’d been telling myself that for years, but it was true. One day.

  “That sounds delicious mom,” I told her, “but don’t forget to use the vegan recipe, ok?”

  My mom sighed. I could practically see her rolling her eyes at the phone. I’d been a vegan for eleven years—almost half of my natural life—but somehow, she was still adjusting. “Alright,” she said reluctantly, “it’s not as good you know, but I’ll do it. I’ll bring it over tomorrow or the next day with your key.”

  I’d left my mom the spare set of keys to my apartment in case of an emergency. I probably would have completely forgotten forever about the keys if she hadn’t mentioned them.

  “That cake is going to be amazing mom,” I told her excitedly, “you’re the best!”

  She might complain about it, but my mom was the best vegan baker in Philadelphia.

  “I’m so proud of you sweetheart,” she told me, “I’ll let you go because I know you probably need to get to bed now, but I’m so happy for you and glad you’re home safe.”

  We hung up and I continued my search for information on Nicholas with a smile on my face. I felt bad for Nicholas that he’d never really had a mother in his life. I’d grown up never knowing my biological father beyond a birthday card now and then, but it had never seemed like much of a loss to me since my mom was such a strong force of love and guidance. We’d been dirt poor, but it hadn’t even really felt like that most of the time since everyone was poor where we lived—it just felt normal.

  Nicholas had Richard for a father. I only had him for a boss, and I could already tell that he was going to be a challenging person to please. Richard responded very quickly to my emails, and readily answered my questions, but he had extremely strong opinions on how I should run my projects, who should be involved, and how often he should be personally briefed on my progress (every day, multiple times a day). I had a feeling that he would prove to be an exacting, intense, and possibly overbearing boss. Obviously, that didn’t necessarily mean he would be a bad father, or even that his personality at home would be anything like his professional persona, but the way Nicholas tensed up at every mention of his father made me think that there was a lot of bad blood between the two of them.

  Locating the correct file cabinet at last, I dropped the file in the designated location and skimmed the other things in the drawer for any clues. There was nothing. Expanding my search, I looked all over the Research and Development archives. Nothing on Nicholas. I skimmed dozens of other files, including the human resources archive. Nothing on Nicholas. Finally, and working on nothing but the weird feeling I’d picked up from Ryan Quin, I checked out the Skylark documentation. Nothing again.

  By ten p.m., I was yawning and no closer to any information that was more illuminating than the initial Subway receipt I’d found in the file. I was done for the night. I had just made it to my car when the text came in from a number I never thought would contact me: This is Nicholas. I’m unexpectedly in town. Meet me?

  I was so surprised that I accidentally honked the horn and then jumped in fright at the sound. My fingers were trembling when I reread the text. I knew that it was custom
ary to wait at least a few minutes so as to not sound desperate, but my body was already waking up to the possibilities and my brain still had a mystery to solve. My reply was fast:

  Sure. I’ll text you a location?

  His reply was similarly instantaneous.

  I’ll meet you ASAP.

  20

  Nicholas

  Jenna gave me the address for her apartment and I rushed over as quickly as I could, praying that she would still be happy to see me after I told her the truth. I’d done almost nothing over the past few days but think of her.

  “Welcome back to Philly,” Jenna said when she opened the door to find Harley and me looking wildly out of place in her posh building. “Come on in. How long have you been in town?”

  Harley stared up at me and whined in obvious irritation when she saw Jenna. I had to grab her collar and physically drag her from the hallway and into Jenna’s apartment. Poor Harley. She was just not having a good day.

  “Thanks,” I replied once I got Harley inside, “I’ve been in town for about ten hours I guess. I got in this morning.”

  Jenna nodded, watching me carefully and clearly curious but also unwilling to ask any more questions. I’d been terrible at answering her questions before, so I could understand her reluctance. We settled across from one another in her small but very stylish living room. She’d made a pot of coffee and poured us both glasses, but neither one of us touched it.

  Jenna folded her hands in her lap and looked at me expectantly. The ball was squarely in my court. We hadn’t touched one another or made any attempt to do so. There was a new space between us much greater than the few feet which physically separated us. In an odd way, I felt further from her now than when I’d been in Alaska.

  More than anything, I wanted to grab Jenna and kiss her senseless. I wanted to erase the distance that separated us and get as close to her as humanely possible. I wanted to tell her how much I’d missed her over the past weekend, and then carry her into the bedroom. But I couldn’t do that, at least not yet. First, I needed to tell her the truth. I shook my head to clear it and swallowed my feelings.

  “Jenna,” I said seriously. “I have to tell you something. I didn’t tell you while you were in Alaska because I was afraid. For my own safety and for yours. But then after you left… I realized that I shouldn’t be hiding anymore. I realized that you might be in danger just for knowing where I was...” I trailed off, unsure about how exactly to continue.

  “What danger?” Jenna repeated in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

  I took a deep breath. There was no going back from this moment.

  “Five years ago,” I told her, “I discovered something disturbing at Durant Industries. I found records that my father was concealing a project named ‘Winterspring’ in the R&D department that was focused on the production of chemical weaponry. My father was not only aware of the program, he was helping to conceal it from the board. When I confronted him about it, he told me that Skylark was brokering the deal between Durant Industries and the US government. Not only that, but unless I agreed to go along with everything, they would go after me. They were already looking for me, and almost found me. My father helped me escape, but I’ve been hiding ever since.”

  Jenna’s green eyes were huge as I unloaded my story. When I fell silent she blinked slowly and took a small, hesitant sip of her coffee. With more poise than I could have ever managed, she looked steadily at me and nodded. I hoped she didn’t think I was crazy.

  “Why didn’t you go to the press?” She asked me. Her expression had become guarded. It was impossible to tell what she was feeling, or if she even believed me.

  “I couldn’t,” I replied, “I had no proof. When I ran, I literally had to drop everything and disappear. There were people who were actively trying to hunt me down and kill me. If my father hadn’t helped me get away, they would have succeeded.”

  “Why didn’t you contact someone once you were safe and hidden?” she pushed, frowning slightly, “You could have told one of your other family members what your father was doing. Or at least started rumors or something.”

  I’d grappled with that same question for weeks when I first arrived in Alaska.

  “Ultimately, I was afraid I’d be putting whoever I contacted in danger,” I answered. “Since I knew that Skylark had figured out that I was poking around and looking into the project and already dispatched people to ‘deal with me’, I was concerned that if I brought anyone else in, that they would also be targets. Anyone I trusted enough to keep my location a secret, I also cared about too much to see them hurt. And what stranger would believe me with no proof?”

  Jenna processed that information for a moment. She was still dressed for work, I noticed, although she’d discarded her blazer atop a nearby chair. Her tight pencil skirt hugged her curves, and a pair of high heels made her long legs look even longer. I tore my eyes away from her legs when she took a deep breath.

  “Why did you come back now?” She asked in a quiet voice. I couldn’t tell if her expression was hopeful, resigned, or apprehensive. Maybe there were shades of all three.

  This was the question that I’d been dreading the most since I didn’t have a truly coherent answer. I looked down at the ground as I answered.

  “I was lonely,” I said, and then bit my tongue because that wasn’t what I meant to say at all. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jenna her freeze in surprise and the rest came out in a frantic rush, “but more than that, I was worried that Skylark would find me somehow since you managed to find me already. I was also worried that you’d be in danger. The people that are evil enough to make and market chemical weapons are capable of just about anything. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  I’d been intensely anxious that something could happen to Jenna as a result of successfully completing her errand. Especially since Jenna was trying to become the VP of the division that ran the secret chemical weapons program off the books. Although it was well concealed, someone as inquisitive as Jenna might stumble on the program by accident just as I had.

  In addition, the more I thought about the Skylark NDA, the more I thought it was a way to keep any information of me from getting back to my father and visa-versa. Using a ‘neutral’, legally silenced party to deliver the will would prevent cross contamination in the unlikely event I was somehow located. They probably also had been banking on the idea that Jenna would be convinced I’d died in an Ashram fire in Nepal. They had probably planted some convincing evidence for her to ‘find’. I’d guess that Skylark was hoping to declare me legally dead and convince my father of that fact. I could only imagine that they were disappointed to find that I was very much alive.

  Although I acknowledged the conviction was bizarre and possibly misguided, I had no fear that Jenna would betray my location to either Skylark or my father. Even though I’d only known Jenna for a few days, I trusted her implicitly. Since I’d spent the last five years trusting absolutely no one (except Harley), the fact that Jenna had won my confidence so quickly was miraculous and rare. I was unwilling to waste the opportunity to see where that would lead me.

  Oblivious to my inner anxiety or theories about Skylark’s manipulative plots, Jenna’s curiosity was not sated yet.

  “How did Skylark learn that you knew about the chemical weapons program?” She inquired next. Jenna rubbed her hands over her thighs restlessly and fidgeted in her seat. She looked a bit like she was longing for a notepad or somewhere to take notes.

  “I still don’t know,” I admitted, “They must have been monitoring my computer searches, or phones, or emails, or something. It took me quite a while to track all the information down, and I’d met with several people in Operations and within the R&D department to point me in the right direction. There were a number of steps in the process that might have clued them into my search.”

  “Why are you telling me?” she finally asked, and I could hear the apprehension in her voice. I’m sure she could hear the
same emotion in my reply.

  “I need your help,” I told her. My voice had gone thick, and I had to swallow nervously before I continued. “I want to expose the chemical weapons being produced at Durant Industries. I want the people behind them to go to jail. I want my life back. I don’t know why I trust you, but I do. I believe that you’re a good person. An honest person who wouldn’t just turn a blind eye to something illegal and wrong.”

  When I was finished talking, Jenna and I stared at one another awkwardly. She looked away first, staring down at her hands again.

  “This isn’t what I thought you would come over and tell me tonight,” Jenna said. A tiny hint of humor had returned to her voice. “I thought maybe you’d reveal that someone was embezzling money. Or doing insider trading. Or that Durant Industries was committing massive tax fraud. You know, regular old white-collar crime like Martha Stewart did. This is way worse than I thought. I figured it had to be something fairly bad. But… chemical weapons?” By the time she fell silent all the humor was gone.

  I nodded.

  “Jenna, when I found those records… it was so much worse than I could imagine,” I answered. “This thing we created, it’s evil. Chemical weapons like this don’t discriminate. Durant Industries has plenty of contracts with the government that relate to defense, but chemical weapons are something completely different. The pictures of the test animals were beyond awful. They died excruciating, terrified deaths. Plus, a tiny change in wind or weather could send this gas right from a military target to a preschool. There’s a reason that chemical weapons are banned.”

  Jenna swallowed nervously.