Uncontrolled Spin: The Power and Danger of Spin ( Un missable Series Book 1)
Page 16
“Any reporter crashing the gate or entering the property without permission is to be detained until local authorities can deal with the criminal charges,” Sean orders. The security supervisor reassures Sean he understands his instructions completely and there won’t be a problem. Feeling slightly better, Sean retires yet again to his bedroom.
He attempts, without success, to get some sleep. His thoughts and emotions haunt him during the night. At three in the morning, he finally gets up, leaves the estate, and drives to his Sacramento Street penthouse. Sean takes a long shower, fixes some really strong coffee, and then heads to his office to gather some things he will need to work on for Global Metal Refining and the Beauty Boutique. Evelyn is surprised to see Sean in his office when she arrives at seven-thirty.
“I couldn’t sleep, and I have a press conference with Mr. Dodge in about an hour,” Sean explains to Evelyn’s curious look.
She nods and says, “I cleared your calendar for two weeks. You need to take some time for yourself, to grieve.”
“Thank you for all you have done and for putting up with me for so many years, but I’ll be okay.”
Evelyn responds with a nod. “I had to, because no one else is as much of a saint as I am. Besides, you would irritate a lesser woman.”
Sean chuckles for the first time in two days, then says, “You’re right, and I’m lucky to have you.” Evelyn smiles and softly closes the door behind her, allowing Sean some time to be alone with his thoughts.
He emerges from his office in time to head to Global Metal Refining’s corporate headquarters just a few blocks from his office. He is greeted by Frank Dodge’s executive assistant and ushered into a private office.
Sean glances around at the polished wood furniture, then says, “Hello, Frank. How are things around here?”
Frank is visibly antsy and responds with his usual sarcasm, “Couldn’t be any better. It’s a freak show here today, what did you expect?”
Sean smiles and answers, “Yeah, I guess that was a stupid question, wasn’t it?”
“You bet your sweet ass it was,” replies Frank.
SACs Dominic Hughes and David Hill arrive a few minutes later. Everyone properly introduces themselves and condolences are offered by the FBI’s agents for the loss of Mark. The four men walk into the press conference area, and Sean immediately takes a seat as SAC Hughes takes the podium.
When Hughes looks up, he sees the room is packed with local and national reporters. He takes a quick sip of water, then in his usual soft spoken and articulate manner begins with his opening statement. Hughes introduces himself first, as the special agent in charge from Boise. He then introduces the other speakers for the day, starting with David Hill and then referring to Frank Dodge. No mention is made about Sean, per his prior request. SAC Hughes offers condolences, first to Mark’s family, then to all of the employees of Global Metal Refining.
“I’ll begin with the facts,” Hughes says. “Sometime, either on Friday evening or Saturday morning, Mr. Mark Stevens was fatally shot at a private home in McCall, Idaho. His body was found fairly early Saturday morning by his personal friend, business associate, and owner of the residence, Mr. Sean Green. Local authorities were summoned to the residence and the McCall Police Department secured the scene, followed by deputies of the initial lead agency, the Valley County sheriff’s department. The deputies recognized their need for assistance, due to the departments inadequate experience level, and requested assistance from the Idaho State police forensic crime lab. Several hours into their investigation, the teams recognized potential jurisdictional conflicts could possibly involve international issues, and both agencies requested assistance from the FBI. After being briefed of the findings to that point, I felt it was necessary to assign Jay Mather as our lead agent and dispatched the FBI regional forensics team from Salt Lake. The forensics team arrived on scene and was briefed by all local agencies. Then the case was officially handed over to Agent Mather and the Boise field office. I contacted SAC David Hill to request his assistance with interviews and further follow-up investigation needed here in California. That is all I have currently. SAC Hill will advise you of the preliminary concerns addressed by the San Francisco field office. SAC Hill?”
David Hill is a no nonsense hard driving man who is known for his expertise in financial analysis and white collar crimes, blunt speech and profanity. He takes the podium and expresses his condolences to the relevant people. Next, he outlines for the press the fact that initial concerns included any possible links to hostile foreign governments, terrorist organizations, and organized crime on the part of Mark Stevens.
“However,” Hill continues, over the mutters of the press, “I am glad to report that no nefarious business associations were discovered involving Mr. Stevens, his family, Global Metal Refining, or subsidiaries. We will be happy to answer your questions at the conclusion of the opening statements, but for now, I will turn the microphone over to Frank Dodge.”
Frank nods to Hill as they trade places. “I have no words to express my dismay and deep sorrow on behalf of everyone associated with Global Metal Refining. I extend my utmost condolences to the Stevens family and Mr. Green. The board of directors has appointed Ms. Charlotte Evans as the interim CEO of Global Metal Refining.” Dodge continues, describing Evans’ twenty-year work history and her education, which also includes her rise through the ranks to chief operating officer and then to president of the international division. “Ms. Evans is currently enroute back to San Francisco from Hong Kong and will be available to the press early next week.” Frank concludes his remarks with assurances that while everyone is deeply saddened over Mr. Stevens’ tragic and untimely death, he would have wanted and expected Global Metal Refining to go on without him, and that is precisely what everyone within the organization must do, even while grieving his loss tremendously.
Frank then turns the time remaining over to the press. Reporter after reporter peppers the FBI with questions surrounding the investigation.
“Why was Mr. Stevens in McCall?” one calls out.
Frank replies, “I was told he was taking a mini-vacation and working with Mr. Green on business strategies.” SAC Hill makes a gesture that he and Hughes will field the questions from here on out, and Frank takes a step back.
“Was Mr. Green in McCall at the time of Mr. Stevens’ death?”
SAC Hughes answers, “No, he was not.”
“What type of weapon killed Mr. Stevens?”
Hughes answers, “It was a high-powered rifle.”
“What type of rifle and caliber?”
Hill chuckles and replies, “Sorry, those types of details will not be disclosed.”
“Has the murder weapon been located?”
Hughes replies, “Not at this time.”
“Do you have any suspects?”
“We’re not going to answer that question,”Hill says, smirking.
“Does the FBI have any ideas about motive?”
“That is currently under investigation,” replies Hughes.
“Could this have been a suicide or an accidental shooting?”
“At this point in the investigation, we believe Mr. Stevens was murdered,” Hughes says, and points to the next reporter.
“Will Mr. Green answer any questions?”
Hughes shakes his head. “Not at this time. As you can imagine, he is quite distraught over the loss.”
SAC Hill steps in again having enough of the media’s bullshit and says, “Thank you all for coming. That will be all for today.”
With that announcement, all four men leave the room and regroup in the private office. They debrief over the press conference, and all of them are left feeling like it went well. David Hill drives Dominic Hughes to the airport for his return trip to Boise, Sean heads to Bonnie’s house, and Frank begins the horrendous task of fielding telephone calls from investors, stockbrokers, clients, vendors, and foreign dignitaries. Frank tells his staff to direct all calls from the press to th
e public relations department and begins getting ready for the stocks to open tomorrow morning.
Sean arrives back at Bonnie’s around one in the afternoon to find Bonnie and her staff answering call after call from friends. Sean notices a mildly attractive petite brunette in her mid-forties sitting with Jessica and Bonnie.
Bonnie glances up, places her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone, and gestures at the brunette. “Oh, Sean, you’re back. Thank goodness. This is Mark’s little sister, Wendy. She flew up from San Diego early this morning.”
Sean extends his hand to shake Wendy’s, but Wendy doesn’t reciprocate, saying, “I’m sorry, but it’s a phobia of mine. Most people don’t wash their hands, and many of them recently masturbated. I hope you understand.”
Sean makes a face, then raises his eyebrows and chuckles. “Well, given that scenario, I guess I don’t have a choice.”
Wendy gives Sean a once-over and then says, “Most people don’t think of how nasty other people’s hygiene habits truly are these days.”
Feeling tired and out of patience, Sean sighs at Wendy’s apparent drama. “Well, I hadn’t until you brought it up.”
Wendy sneers and asks, “Are you always this snarky?”
Sean snorts and replies shortly, “Only with drama queens.” He turns away, walks farther into the house, and asks the staff for a double scotch on the rocks.
Jess follows him, “Can I join you? She is kind of in your face, isn’t she?”
Sean shakes his head and grins. “Of course you can join me. And I’m glad you think so as well. I was beginning to wonder if it was just me being an ass again.”
She considers for a moment. “Maybe a little impatient and rude, but not necessarily an ass. Frankly, she had it coming. She’s been that way all day.”
“Maybe. I’m just tired, emotionally drained, and I also never knew Mark had a sister, let alone one living so close. How the hell can you know someone as long as I’ve known Mark without knowing he had a sibling?” He accepts his scotch from a staff member with a nod, and Jessica does the same.
“Perhaps he didn’t want anyone to know that about him,” she replies.
“But why not?” asks Sean. “Why would you hide someone that significant?”
Jessica shakes her head and shrugs. “I have no idea, but I did know him fairly well, and from that I can say I’m sure he had his reasons. Wendy hasn’t necessarily been forthcoming about it either.”
Just then, Wendy walks in and asks if she can speak with Sean alone. Jessica glances at him for approval and, when he nods, says, “I’ll just excuse myself and talk with Bonnie out on the patio. Both of you try to be nice. Nerves are a bit frazzled for all of us right now.”
Sean lifts his scotch toward Jessica as if to say, “You got it,” while Wendy nods in acknowledgement. Satisfied, Jessica leaves them alone.
Wendy starts the conversation with a quick apology for her reaction to Sean. They chat a while, and Wendy begins to feel comfortable. “I’m not sure if I want to share the information I am about to disclose, and it makes me very nervous, which doesn’t come off well. You seem like the best person to tell this secret to. What I’m about to tell you is to remain confidential between the two of us. It is never to be disclosed to Bonnie under any circumstances. Is that clear?” Wendy asks.
Sean ponders for a moment and then says, “I’m not sure if I can agree to something like that without knowing any specifics. Not to mention there’s still a criminal investigation being conducted, and I don’t want to know anything about Mark that I can’t disclose to the investigators.”
Wendy replies, “I understand. However, it’s nothing like that. You can disclose anything I’m about to tell you to anyone except Bonnie. This information would be devastating to her and her image of her late husband, and she doesn’t need that right now.”
Sean says curiously, “Okay then. You have my confidence.”
Wendy takes a deep breath and begins by telling Sean, “Mark was a very secretive man with an extremely dark past—”
Sean interrupts. “Not the Mark I knew.”
Wendy sighs and asks Sean to please let her finish before speaking again, because what she is about to relay is very difficult for her to speak about. Sean nods affirmatively, a small pit of dread beginning to build in his stomach.
Wendy continues, “Okay. Mark was extremely brutal in his business practices to start with. Global Metal Refining began simply as Metal Refining. Our father was the original owner, and it was a small regional enterprise until after Mark graduated from college and began working for Dad as an operations manager. Mark was able to cut costs and increase profitability, while also recruiting excellent employees. Dad saw Mark’s business skills along with the potential to expand the company from a regional enterprise into a national organization. Mark saw the company as a global organization and began pushing Dad to consider larger things for the company, like going public with placement onto the New York Stock Exchange. Dad told Mark he had no intention of taking the company public as long as he was alive, further explaining that Mark would get his chance to do whatever he wanted with the company after Dad’s death. Well, our family has always had longevity on its side, so while Mark was only in his early thirties and Dad was in his mid-fifties, Mark knew his dreams for Metal Refining would not be realized for another forty years or so.” Wendy pauses for a shaky breath.
“Anyway, Mark decided the best way to realize his dreams was to take over Metal Refining by ousting his own father. Mark set about silently orchestrating an overthrow, using venture capitalists for the initial purchase of Metal Refining. Through a series of brilliant business moves, Mark was able to oust Dad and get installed as the new president of the company, and then he used the upcoming, yet still fairly prominent, attorney, Todd Stoddard, to take Metal Refining public under the new corporate structure of Global Metal Refining. The two of them were both hungry to make a name for themselves, and from this venture they were able to structure a successful buyout of the venture capitalists. Mark was on his way to achieving his dreams for Global Metal Refining. Because of the hostile takeover, Dad became bitter, at first, then angry and finally despondent. He committed suicide a year later, when Mark was thirty-two and I was nineteen.”
She pauses and Sean attempts to wipe the look of dread off his face and understand why she is telling him her life story. He takes a sip of his scotch and motions for her to continue.
“Mom began relying on Mark for support, and Mark took on the tasks that were originally Dad’s. Just after I turned twenty, I had a party at the house when both Mom and Mark were out of town. Mark’s business meetings ended early, and he came by the house to check on me. When he saw the party in full swing with me both stoned and drunk, he became enraged, kicked everyone out of the house, and shut down the party. After everyone had left, Mark and I started to argue. He called me a drunken whore, and I slapped him across the face. When he spun back around, his fist followed, slamming into my cheekbone. As I lay on the living room carpet crying, Mark grabbed me by the hair and began dragging me to my bedroom. He continued to beat me until he was close enough to throw me on the bed. He pulled the phone cord out of the wall and used it to tie my hands to the headboard, and my feet to the footboard. I continued to yell profanities at him, telling him he was out of control and demanding he untie me. Mark told me that if I wanted to act like a bitch, he would treat me like one. We argued for hours as Mark sat in the chair across from my bed. He drank while we argued, and I continued my verbal assault on his masculinity. Then I made a terrible mistake…” Wendy trails off, sucking in a large breath.
Sean pulls himself out of shock long enough to silently hand her his scotch. She tosses back the rest of the glass’s contents and clears her throat.
“I told him he was an overbearing, narcissistic pervert, who killed our father because of his own lust for power and control. When he began beating me again, I said that the only way he could have humiliated me more was to scr
ew me. I watched as this rage filled his eyes, and I was sure he was going to kill me. At that point, Mark walked out of the room, and I heard him make a telephone call. When he came back, he had calmed down. He took another sip of his drink, then said the words that, to this day, still haunt me. ‘You have no idea what power and control look like, but you’re about to find out.’ Then he sat silently, not responding to anything I hurled at him. He simply didn’t react. He’d gone stone cold. This went on for what seemed like hours, and then I heard the front door open. Mark called out for the person to come upstairs, then smiled this hate-filled smile that sent chills through my bones. A large male figure arrived wearing a black ski mask, and Mark said, ‘Wendy, I’m going to show you what power looks like in the real world, you little snot-nosed slut.’ I began crying again when the masked man began cutting off my clothes. Mark told me to plead with him and beg him for mercy or suffer the consequences. My drunken response was a quick ‘fuck you.’ I would never give him that satisfaction. I thought he was a murdering bastard, but he was even more messed up than I ever knew. The masked man ripped my pants down, revealing everything, because I wasn’t wearing underwear. Mark said, ‘Beg, you nasty whore.’ Again I replied with a ‘fuck you.’ I watched as the masked man began to remove all of his clothing except the ski mask and put a condom on. He had a tattoo over his heart that I will remember all my life. It was a coiled viper, sinking its fangs into a heart, dripping blood. Mark said, ‘This is your last chance. Beg for mercy, or I’ll let him do what he wants to you.’ As stubborn as I am today, nothing matches the absolute resentment and angst I had in those days.”
She begins crying, and then says, “I told Mark to go to hell. His voice was cold and heartless when he said, ‘Welcome to my world.’ He watched as the masked man raped me repeatedly, all the while insulting me, telling me what a nasty little whore I was. He told his friend to roll me over and humiliate me some more. When his friend said he’d had enough, Mark told him to clean up his condoms and leave. The masked man did as he was told. Mark left me there sobbing for two hours while he told me he had the power to control any fucking slut, whore, or woman he chose to, because he was rich and more powerful than I knew. After he sobered up, he called the police to report I had been raped and he found me tied to the bed. When they arrived, I tried to tell them what Mark had done. Mark told them he was out of town until that morning, when he came home and found me. He gave them names and phone numbers to call for an alibi, and when they checked it out, his story was confirmed. He told the police I was emotionally distraught and disturbed as a result of the attack and had to be placed in a psychiatric facility, where I remained until I stopped blaming him for the vicious assault. No rape kit was done because of Mark’s insistence that they not traumatize me any further, and he assured them he would make sure I received proper medical and psychiatric care. He called our mom after the ambulance took me to the facility and explained his version of what had happened. Mom rushed to the hospital. When I insisted on telling her the truth, she got angry and made sure I was medicated. After I got out, I only spoke to Mark once, and he told me I was dead to him. Years later, I found out he had paid all my student loans off. When I confronted him about it, he laughed at me and told me he still had the power to control my life.” She sighs and finally concludes, “No one has believed me, so I don’t expect you to either, but I swear everything I just told you about my life is true.”