Stumptown

by A M Huff

  Ever since hearing the news about Barry’s disappearance, Justus could not get him off his mind. They had only shared an hour or so, but in that short time Justus had learned enough to know he did not want any harm to come to him. Still, he could not shake the feeling that something had happened to him and that Dean was behind it.

  The elevator stopped and the doors opened on the twenty-eighth floor. Justus waited for Harrison to exit before he followed.

  “Try to have a good day,” Harrison said and smiled while they walked.

  “Easier said than done,” Justus answered.

  Vicki was waiting for him outside the file room.

  “Please don’t tell me there’s another vase of flowers,” he groaned.

  “Afraid so,” she answered.

  “I hope you kept them. I really don’t want to see them.”

  “I thought you would say that,” she smiled. “I hope you keep this guy around, a girl could get spoiled,” she lowered her tone to a naughty pitch, “and I want to be spoiled.” Her voice raised again. “Here’s the card, you should at least read it.”

  “Why? Did you?” Justus took the yellow envelope she held out to him.

  “I refuse to answer that on the grounds. . . uh, I don’t remember the rest, but you know.” She shrugged her shoulders coyly.

  “You’re so bad!” Justus teased. He stuck the envelope into the folder.

  “Since when do you bring work home?” she asked upon seeing the file in his hands.

  “This isn’t work stuff,” he said. “A friend of mine named me executor of his will. I’ve been putting off reading it completely and Harry—Mr. Andrews said I need to. So. . .” He frowned and held up the folder, surrendering to it.

  “I’m sorry,” Vicki commiserated. “I should get back to the mail room. If you need anything, call me.”

  “I will, thanks,” Justus said to be polite and went into the file room.

  The florescent lights, connected to a motion sensor, flickered to life. Justus walked over to his desk and tossed the folder into his in-basket. He opened the top drawer and pulled out his Broadway Hits CD and popped it into the player.

  While the Phantom sang to Christine, Justus emptied his cart of the files. He spread them out on the empty desk and began to sort them, putting them in numerical order. The Phantom’s baritone voice resonated and filled the room. Justus felt his shoulders and neck relax while he became lost in the music and sang along. His back was toward the doorway when he and the Phantom reached the climax in the song.

  “I didn’t know you could sing.”

  Justus let out a scream and spun around, the file in his hand sent its contents raining down on the floor around him.

  “Harry!” he spat. “Don’t sneak up on people! You could give them a heart attack. And stop laughing, it’s rude.”

  “I’m sorry,” Harrison apologized, but his continued laughter said otherwise.

  “What do you want?” Justus asked and knelt down by his desk to begin picking up the papers.

  “I hope that wasn’t one of mine,” Harrison said. He stooped down and began helping Justus.

  “It would serve you right,” Justus snapped.

  Together they gathered the papers and Justus put them back in the folder.

  “I’ll put it in order for you,” Harrison volunteered.

  “Thanks,” Justus said and handed him the file. “So, what did you want?”

  “Oh!” Harrison gasped. “I have a meeting with the Concannon Industries rep and I need their files.”

  “Okay, when do you need them?”

  “Now,” Harrison said and grimaced.

  “Now? Harry, I—I’ll get them and bring them to you. Where is your meeting?”

  “In Conference Room Three upstairs.”

  “Fine. I’ll bring them up.”

  “Thanks,” Harrison said and started to leave. “I’m sorry I startled you, and you do have a good voice,” he said over his shoulder and then disappeared around the corner.

  Justus pulled his chair out and sat down in front of his computer. He quickly typed in the name of the business and did a search. Every company they worked on was assigned a number. Those numbers were used to mark their files. It was not the best system since every time one of the people on the floor needed a file, he would have to first look up the account number and then go to the file cabinet. If they would simply file everything under the name of the business in alphabetical order, he could go straight to the cabinet and pull the needed file.

  Justus wrote down the ten-digit number and went to the file cabinet. The Concannon Industries file was right after the White’s Electronic account and before the Fischel’s. Justus put in a large orange card to mark the location of the missing file and closed the drawer. The marker cards had been his idea, one that his former workmate Debra had tried to claim as hers. However, when she tried to explain it to their boss and failed, she’d had to admit it was his idea after all.

  Justus decided to take the stairs after seeing a small group of people from the business that shared their floor already waiting for the elevator. The stairs would be much faster.

  He emerged onto the twenty-ninth floor a bit winded. He had been on this floor many times in his young career. The floor housed the company big shots and their secretaries. There were also five conference rooms where the reps from downstairs would meet with their clients. The powers that be did not want clients to see the cubicles; they wanted to keep the illusion of opulence. “Opulence breeds trust,” the VP had once told them while he stood on top of a desk downstairs. The only thing Justus liked about the man was that when he stood next to the VP, Justus finally felt tall.

  Conference Room Three was located on the outside east wall and had windows that overlooked the Willamette River and Southeast Portland. On the rare clear days it even had a nice view of Mount Hood in the distance. Justus knocked lightly on the door and then slipped into the room.

  Harrison sat at the head of a long polished cherrywood table. There was a white board on the wall behind him that had some figures and a chart drawn on it. Three men in suits sat stone-faced with their backs toward the windows. Justus stepped up and sat the files down on the corner of the table by Harrison’s left elbow. He glanced up at the men and froze as his eyes locked on the one seated furthest away.

  “Thank you, Justus.”

  Justus heard Harrison, but his words and their meaning did not register. His attention was fixed on the dark-haired man with a neatly trimmed mustache at the end of the table. The man fidgeted and appeared nervous, obviously recognizing Justus.

  “Justus?” Harrison touched his arm. “Is everything alright?”

  “Yes.” Justus finally found his voice and pulled himself away from staring at the man. “Sorry, heights. Don’t like ‘em.”

  Justus turned around and slipped out of the room. Once safely in the hall he leaned against the wall and caught his breath. What’s he doing here? He pulled out his cell phone and punched Scotty’s work number in from memory then tapped send. The call rang.

  “Come on, answer,” he said impatiently while he headed back downstairs to the file room. The call dropped when he entered the stairwell and right when Scotty answered. “Damn it!” Justus ran down the stairs and emerged on the twenty-eighth floor. While he continued on his way to the file room, he redialed Scotty’s number.

  “Thank you for calling Qwik Print. This is Eugene, how may I help you?”

  “Scotty, it’s me, Justus.”

  “Justus? What’s the matter?”

  “You are never going to believe who’s here in a meeting with Harrison.”

  “Okay, who?”

  “Andy.”

  “Andy? What’s he doing there?”

  Justus was surprised by Scotty’s tone. He had thought he would have been shocked. Instead, Scotty sounded bored.

  “He was in a meeting with Harrison and the guys from Concannon Industries.”

  “We all have to work som
ewhere, I suppose.”

  “It was all I could do not to jump him about what he did to you—”

  “Yeah, well, I gotta go, a customer just walked in.”

  “Okay, but why don’t you come over for dinner tonight?”

  “Sure, bye.”

  The call disconnected but Justus tapped the red dot in the center of the screen on his phone anyway. He sat down at his desk and stared at his dark computer screen. He felt restless inside, as though he had drunk the whole pot of coffee. Coffee, that’s what I need. He jumped up and went to the break room.

  Three women and a stuffy, square-jawed man sat together around a table by the counter. Justus ignored them and went to fill his coffee cup.

  “Did you see the paper this morning? Another one of them has gone missing from one of those so-called nightclubs,” one of the women said.

  “I saw that, too,” another spoke up in a slightly bored tone. “I don’t understand why this is newsworthy?”

  “Really,” the man agreed. “Who cares? I mean, it’s one less pervert on the street.”

  “I agree. Yesterday my pastor gave a sermon explaining all of the vile things they do with each other and how they are an abomination and go against nature and God,” the last woman at the table spat. “It’s Sodom and Gomorrah all over again.”

  Justus felt his pulse quicken. He turned around sharply, nearly spilling his coffee. “I’m sure it’s nothing you haven’t done yourselves with your husbands.”

  “I never!” the last woman who spoke gasped.

  “Yeah, right,” Justus scoffed. “You probably take it in the ass every night.”

  “That was uncalled for,” the man said. “You’re talking to a lady.”

  “I know who I’m talking to,” Justus snapped, “four homophobic, self-righteous assholes.”

  The man jumped to his feet. His hands were clenched into fists and looking as if he were ready for a fight.

  “Struck a nerve? Gonna hit me?” Justus said and took a step closer even though inside he wanted to run. “Do it and you’ll get fired.”

  The expression on the man’s face softened a bit. It was obvious Justus’ words registered.

  “Those men you so easily dismissed are people too. They’re some mother’s little baby, some father’s son. Their families are probably sick with worry over them right now. But you go ahead and keep talking your hateful trash. Your day is coming.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” one woman snapped back.

  “Is that a threat?” another asked.

  “I think you should leave,” the man ordered more than suggested.

  Justus laughed. “You people are pathetic.”

  He walked out of the room, his pulse still pounding wildly. He did not stop until he was back in his file room. He wished his office had a door. He dropped a CD into his player and pressed the play button. While the soundtrack of the 1984 movie Footloose played, Justus slid down the file cabinet and sat on the floor behind his desk. He buried his face in his crossed arms. Tears dampened his face while he thought about Jack and Barry and the other missing men and how cruel people were.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Justus looked up at Harrison standing beside his desk. He quickly dried his eyes and stood up, brushing himself off more out of habit than actually removing any dirt.

  “Nothing. Nothing,” he stammered.

  “Well, ready for lunch?”

  Justus looked up at the clock and was surprised to see it was already one in the afternoon. “Sure.”

  Before leaving the room, Justus turned off his CD player and looked at the neat stacks of files. He felt as though he were forgetting something but nothing came to mind. He followed Harrison to the elevators.

  It did not take long for the elevator car to arrive. The doors opened and Justus entered, finding his place against the back wall. He gripped the handrail and leaned his back against the wall to keep from falling over. He hated the sensation he felt in his stomach when the elevator descended rapidly. I’ve seen too many movies where the elevator plummeted to the basement, he told himself.

  He felt the car slow its descent and his grip relaxed a bit. When it stopped, he gasped and realized he had been holding his breath all the way down. The doors opened and the two walked out into the plaza.

  “I’ll grab our table,” Justus told Harrison and rushed ahead.

  The Rice Bowl was not busy. Harrison was in and out in no time. He carried the tray with two teriyaki chicken and rice bowls and two large Cokes over to their table.

  “One of these days you’re going to have to pick up lunch,” Harrison said and sat down.

  “Sure, but that would mean you’d have to grab our table and then wait for me. I know how much you hate waiting,” Justus said and ducked his head pretending to be submissive.

  “So, what was all that about this morning?” Harrison asked while he took the plastic lid off his lunch bowl.

  “What?” Justus asked, remembering the confrontation in the break room. Surely Harrison couldn’t have heard about that already.

  “In the conference room upstairs.”

  “Oh,” Justus answered. “I recognized someone.” He took a bite of chicken and rice.

  “Who?”

  “Andy.”

  Harrison looked confused. “There was no one named Andy in the meeting.”

  “The guy on the end of the table?”

  “You mean Dominic Russell?”

  It was Justus’ turn to look confused. “Is that his name?”

  “Yes, he’s the son-in-law of Concannon’s CEO.”

  “Oh my God,” Justus gasped. “He told Scotty his name was Andy.”

  “You must be mistaken.”

  “No, I’m not. I never forget a face; especially when it belongs to someone who was mean and nasty to my friend. He bought Scotty a drink and then took him to his house in the West Hills and dumped him there.”

  Harrison shook his head. “Well, he’s married and has two daughters. He’s not gay. So I doubt he’s your man.”

  “I’m telling you it is him. He’s hiding something,” Justus said.

  “Well, they’re all coming back tomorrow to continue our meeting. I don’t want you making a scene and embarrassing them and yourself.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  Harrison gave Justus the look.

  “Fine,” Justus said and stuck a fork in another piece of chicken.

  They ate in silence, but the running conversation in his head was so loud he was sure Harrison could hear it. The voices were asking unanswerable questions and it was beginning to cause him to lose his appetite. He took a drink from his Coke.

  “Say, I invited Scotty to dinner tonight. I hope you don’t mind,” Justus spoke up.

  “No problem.” Harrison shrugged. “Doug is coming over, too.”

  “Oh?” Justus said, purposely sounding suspicious.

  “Don’t start,” Harrison said.

  Justus could see Harrison’s face begin to turn red even though Harrison kept his head down. Justus smiled.

  After work, Harrison and Justus picked up Scotty and then stopped off at the store before finally heading home. Douglas was waiting for them on the front porch when they drove into the driveway.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Harrison apologized while he unlocked the front door.

  “That’s okay, I just got here myself.”

  Justus knew Douglas was lying purely to be gracious. He looked too comfortable sitting on the porch swing for just arriving.

  While Harrison and Douglas busied themselves in the kitchen, Justus set the table.

  “Here you go,” Douglas said, walking into the dining room, “a Jack Daniel’s on ice and a Coke.” He held out the two glasses.

  “Uh, do you mind if I have one of those?” Scotty said and nodded toward Justus who took the Jack Daniel’s.

  Douglas shot Justus a surprised and confused look. “Sure,” he answered and took the Coke bac
k into the kitchen. He quickly returned and handed Scotty his drink.

  While they ate, Douglas recounted his day working in the West Hills. “I never realized how narrow some of those streets are,” he commented. “We had a couple flaggers directing traffic but when the cars would pass by the truck, I could have sworn there was an inch of clearance between us, tops.”

  Harrison kept the topic going, “Anyone who lives there has to be crazy. The majority of those houses are built on stilts. With the amount of rain we get it’s only a matter of time before they all start sliding down.”

  Justus looked at Scotty who appeared to be taking it well. He had thought talk about the West Hills would have made him more uncomfortable. However, seeing that it had not, Justus interjected.

  “Scotty said that Andy lives there.”

  Scotty looked up with wide eyes.

  “Andy?” Douglas asked.

  Justus opened his mouth to answer but Scotty jumped in. “A guy who bought me a drink a few weeks ago. He took me to his house in the West Hills. Then he got all weird and upset because I wouldn’t do him and threw me out of his house. Justus had to come pick me up.”

  “Only, his name isn’t really Andy,” Justus spoke up and looked at Harrison. “His real name is Dom—”

  “Dominic Russell,” Harrison said. “I don’t think we should be talking about clients at dinner.”

  “He’s not my client,” Justus scoffed. “Besides, we’re not talking about his business.”

  “Why would he say his name was Andy?” Scotty thought out loud.

  “Maybe he was trying to keep his personal life separate from his regular life?” Douglas speculated. “Or he’s still in the closet.”

  “Harry said he’s married and has kids,” Justus said and looked at Harrison who did not appear pleased with the direction of the conversation.

  “Interesting,” Douglas said and raised an eyebrow.

  “Not really,” Harrison said.

  “Well, I don’t care what his name is,” Scotty spoke up. “I hope I never see him again. The man is a psychopath.”

  “Let’s change the subject, shall we?” Harrison begged.