by Cole, Cassie
He glanced at me. “You don’t save all your cover letters on the network share, do ya?”
“Of course not,” I said. It was technically not a lie. “Just this one, so I could show you.”
“Just make sure you delete it when we’re done.” He reached the directory, which indeed held only a single document. That seemed to satisfy him. He opened it up and I had him scroll down to the second paragraph.
“This part here,” I said. “He capitalized the word Solutions. But it’s not a one-time thing: he does that a couple of times.”
Bryson rolled his head in a long nod. “Ahh, I see the confusion. That’s short for Piping Supply and Solutions. It’s a company.”
“So the shorthand is correct,” I said. “Okay, great. Thanks for clarifying.”
“Sure thing.”
“And I’m sorry to have bothered you with this,” I repeated, feeling the need to apologize. “I’ll get back to work.”
“Hold on a second,” he said before I could leave. He rose, came around the side of the desk, and sat on the edge in front of me. Like a guidance counselor trying to act cool around a kid accused of drug use. He was close. Almost uncomfortably so.
“I wanted to ask you about the auditors staying with you,” he said. “Have you discovered anything of note, like we talked about?”
Shoot. I hadn’t expected this, though I probably should have. “Uhh, not really. Two of them left for the site visits, but came back yesterday.”
“I know all that,” he said. “Have you learned anything specific about their motives? Why they’re really here?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m afraid they just don’t talk to me about that sort of thing.”
I sounded convincing. I’d practiced the lie enough times that it sounded like the truth. And why wouldn’t it? He had no reason not to believe me.
Which made what he said next all the more jarring: “Are you fucking any of them?”
I froze. It was strange hearing the harsh accusation out of his kind face. “What?”
“Tim mentioned you were gone yesterday when he needed some documents scanned. I checked the footage and you were away from the desk.”
“Barbara received a fax. I was dropping it off at her desk.”
“For 20 minutes?”
“It didn’t feel like it was that long. I must have stopped and chatted with her. If you ask her I’m sure—”
“I did ask her,” he cut in. “She said you dropped off the documents and left immediately. That should have taken you two minutes at most.” His eyes bore into me, cold and demanding.
As the adrenaline hit me, I tried to think of excuses. I went to the bathroom. I had to re-apply makeup. Maybe feminine issues? That might make him stop asking questions.
But then he said, “We also noticed Jason Padmore, one of the auditors, was gone from the conference room at the same time. I spoke with some employees on that hall and they said he interrupted their meeting in room 114. Were you two together?”
“I don’t…” I mumbled. Nothing I said sounded convincing now. “We… No, I wasn’t…”
His entire demeanor changed as he spread his arms. “This is great! I didn’t necessarily want you to go to such lengths when I asked you to watch them, but getting close to them helps us. What did you learn?”
“I… Nothing,” I stammered. “We didn’t do anything!”
“Come on, Lexa! The footage shows you returning to the front desk moments before Jason reappears and goes into the bathroom. You’re fucking him. You can admit it.”
Every time he said the word was like a whip cracked at my vulnerable body. “I don’t feel comfortable about this, Mr. Bryson.”
His face softened. “I’m sorry.”
Relief washed over me. If I could just get away and regroup I could think of an excuse later. Talk to Jason about it and come up with a story. God, it was so stupid of us to meet at work. Why hadn’t I waited until we got home?
Bryson’s face hardened again. “I’m sorry you’re not being as cooperative as I’d hoped. I thought you wanted a permanent job here at Blackrock Energy, but apparently you’re too goddamn cowardly.”
“What?”
“I thought I could trust you,” he said. “Clearly I was wrong. It was such a simple task. If you can’t get me what I need, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“We have ways of getting rid of snitches in this industry,” he snarled. His entire demeanor was different: hunched over and menacing, a gremlin of a man with no semblance of empathy. Then, like a mask falling over his face, all anger disappeared.
“Thank you, Ms. Lewis,” he said. “That will be all.”
The calmness on his face was more terrifying than the previous anger. I rose, nodded, and fled from the room before he could say anything else.
37
Lexa
I tried to keep it together until I reached my desk, but couldn’t last that long. I ducked into a bathroom next to the elevator and went into an empty stall and cried.
Hearing him accuse me of fucking them just to get information seemed so crude. Like that’s all I was good for: using my body to get him what he needed. He’d never cared about my editing skills, had he? It made me feel worthless. Worse than worthless.
I replayed what he’d said in my head while blowing snot into a fold of toilet paper. Taking care of snitches? He sounded like a mafia jerk making threats. Like he would order them killed. It was ridiculous. Was he serious, or just pretending like he could do something like that?
Or was I overanalyzing all of this?
Then I cried for my own stupid actions. It was ridiculous to do what I did with Jason yesterday, inside the darn building. I should have waited until after work to tell him about the documents I found. I’d been so eager to please him. To earn his trust. Like a fawning schoolgirl.
I wouldn’t make that mistake again at work. Everything I did was being watched: that was now obvious. I couldn’t talk to him or Tex at work without raising suspicions. Heck, I couldn’t even copy the documents without being seen. What would Bryson do if he saw me helping the auditors? It seemed impossible before today, but now I could picture him striking me. Dragging me into a back room and tying me up. Beating me to within an inch of my life.
Killing me, the way he was threatening to kill the men living in my condo.
Once I’d collected myself I returned to the desk, intensely aware of the cameras watching my every step. It was torture sitting there, waiting until lunch. I reorganized my purse, though it was already clean. I went to the bathroom and splashed water on my face, like people did in the movies. Whatever it was meant to accomplish, it didn’t help.
Finally, at 11:00 on the nose, I casually rose and left for lunch. I wanted to sprint home, but somehow managed to keep my steps calm and even.
“Cas?” I called as soon as I was through the door. “Cas, we have to talk. It’s important.”
I found the kitchen and living room empty. A piece of paper on the table made my heart stop. I imagined it was a ransom letter, that Bryson had managed to kidnap them while I was at work. But the letter had Cas’s signature at the bottom.
I held my breath as I read:
Lexa,
You’re going to hate me, but we had to leave in a rush. Our company got an anonymous tip about a drill site violation out west. Could be the final smoking gun we need to put everything together here. We’re driving up today, then inspecting it tomorrow morning when a certain work shift is there. Hopefully back by tomorrow night.
I hate leaving so soon after returning, but I hope you understand. We’re on radio silence until we get back, so no texts or calls. Hope you can manage without us for one more day!
Your formerly ponytailed lover,
Casimiro
My fears lessened with each word. It was relieving that they were getting away from Bryson and whatever threats he intended to make. I still
had Tex and Jason to worry about, and I wasn’t sure how I could protect them, but two was easier than four.
Knowing that they might be breaking this entire thing wide open was a different kind of relief. I didn’t need to steal the documents from the computer just yet. It might not matter in the end.
I went back to work and sat at my desk before realizing that I’d forgotten to get lunch. It was too late now or I would really look suspicious. Like this morning, I felt like my every move was being watched. Bryson’s gaze boring into me from a dozen different ceiling-mounted eyes.
Every minute that went by the need to warn Tex and Jason grew. I wanted to get up and swing by their conference room, but that would be ridiculously stupid. What about texting them? Bryson had surmised everything based solely on the security footage; he didn’t know the texts I’d sent to Jason, otherwise he would have known that I was helping him.
I pulled out my phone, made sure my body was blocking the camera from seeing the screen, and sent a simple group text to Jason and Tex:
Me: Mr. Bryson made a weird threat about you guys today. Be careful.
Neither of them responded. There was no “Delivered” message either, but I couldn’t remember if those appeared on group texts. Still, it felt like I’d done all I could, so I relaxed back into my chair and waited for the day to pass.
Time crawled. Couriers came by to pick up the last two packages or drill site invoices, but aside from that nobody came into the lobby. I felt like a lawn ornament, a porcelain gnome who was there for decoration rather than function.
Bryson himself came into the lobby at 4:45. I smiled at him; I’d rehearsed what I was going to say. He leaned on the desk and I launched into my speech.
“Mr. Bryson,” I began. “I’m terribly sorry if you think I did something suspicious. If Jason and I happened to be walking around at the same time, that’s just a funny coincidence. I promise I’m doing everything I can to learn what the auditors are up to, if anything. I swear it.”
It felt weird to be lying so much. I wasn’t a liar, normally. But this was a special circumstance.
Bryson smiled politely. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I have no need of you anymore, beyond your use as an administrative assistant.”
“What… What does that mean?”
He smiled widely. The kind-hearted smile he gave when he was trying to convince people he was just a down-to-earth guy, rather than the man in charge of a multi-billion dollar company. “They’re out of my hair now. Should have done that days ago.”
“You… Fired them?” I asked.
He laughed. A carefree, maniacal laugh that made the hair on my neck stand up. “Goodness, no. I needed to send a message, not just to them but anyone who conspires against Blackrock. Those four won’t be back again.”
I opened my mouth to ask what he’d done, then closed it. The anonymous tip Cas had gotten! It must have come from Bryson. But they would only be gone a day, unless…
A lump formed in the back of my throat. Cas and Kai weren’t safe. They were going toward danger!
I thought about Tex and Jason, hunkered down in the conference room. “Four?” I asked. “Have you already dismissed the two who are here?”
“Oh, they left before lunch,” he said. “While you were in my office, actually. But hey, look on the bright side! Their company paid their rent through next month. You get the best of both worlds. See you in the morning, Ms. Lewis.”
Bryson left the building, whistling a tune.
The moment he was through the doors I leapt from my seat and speed-walked through the halls deeper into the building. Dread rose in my chest with each step as I reached the conference room, even though I knew what I would find: it was empty except for the stacks of documents covering the table.
I remembered Cas’s note: Hope you can manage without us for one more day. He wasn’t talking about him and Kai: he was talking about all four of them.
They were all visiting the drill site.
This time I did jog home, ignoring the stares from other pedestrians on the Bismarck street. I checked the room on the first floor: Jason’s and Tex’s backpacks were gone. I ran upstairs to check Kai and Cas’s rooms even though I already knew they had left.
Panicked, I decided to ignore Cas’s note and call him. It went straight to voicemail after one ring. “Call me back as soon as possible,” I said. “I think you’re all in danger.”
I repeated the voicemail for the others, just in case one of them happened to check their phones. Then I sent one final group text to all four of them. Again, there was no answer.
I stood in the middle of my condo, helpless.
38
Cas
I drove down the interstate, feeling helpless.
I wanted to say more to Lexa, to tell her in person or leave her a voicemail so she could listen to my voice and hear my anguish, but it was too risky.
We couldn’t let anyone know where we were going. That meant all phones were off and the SIM cards removed. Hell, even leaving a note for Lexa was risky, but I couldn’t leave without saying something.
I hoped she would understand. Especially since we’d only be gone a day.
“I wish she’d been at her desk,” Tex grumbled from the back seat.
“Lexa will be fine until we return,” Kai said. “She is a big girl.”
“She’ll understand,” I said, even though I didn’t believe it myself.
“She’s… Special,” Jason said. I glanced at him in the rear-view mirror; he was staring out the window. “You guys were right.”
“She is,” Tex said.
“And you have not had her French toast!” Kai exclaimed.
She’s the one.
The thought had been bouncing around my head for the past week. It was a silly, childish thought. I wasn’t sure if I even believed in the one, Lexa aside. And I still barely knew her.
But it didn’t feel that way. It felt like we’d been together our entire lives without knowing it until now.
The fact that my buddies were warming up to her helped make everything easier, too.
“So you trust her now?” I asked. Jason met my gaze in the mirror.
“I do.” He nodded as if convincing himself. “I do. But now we should focus on this site inspection.”
“There is one point we have not discussed,” Kai said. “What do we do if we finish at Blackrock?”
“How do ya mean?” Tex asked.
“Well, we are here, in Bismarck,” Kai said. “With Lexa. Yet when we finish…” He spread his hands.
“I have some ideas,” I said. “But for now, I agree with Jason’s sentiment: let’s focus on the drill site. Tex, what do we know about it?”
He ruffled through a folder before coming up with a stapled stack of paper. “Drill Site 181. Outside Cardiff, North Dakota, with an expected completion date…”
As he went over the details, I couldn’t help but wish Lexa was with us.
39
Lexa
I hated feeling helpless.
As useless as it was, I tried calling all four of their numbers again an hour later. I threw some leftover Sloppy Josef in the microwave, spooned it onto a hamburger bun, and then only ate three bites. Even though it was the same as it had been before they moved in, my condo felt oppressively lonely. The silence felt ominous.
After dinner I paced the apartment and looked out my window, hoping to see their jeep reappear at any moment. Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore so I jumped in my own car and drove west.
I didn’t know what I was doing or what I was looking for. Cas’s note said they were going in this direction, and most of the drill sites were hours away. I drove for 20 minutes, staring at the yellow divider lines of the highway flashing by rapidly, before coming to my senses and turning around. Why had I even done that? It’s not like I would suddenly see them on the side of the road.
I felt like my brain wasn’t working properly. It was inadequate to deal with stress li
ke this.
Yet I couldn’t do nothing, so I pulled up Google Maps and started calling the motels along the interstate out west. “Hello, do you have a guest registered under the name Floyd?” I asked. “No? Okay, what about Padmore? Mendelssohn?”
I repeated the line of questions for each motel on the map. Nobody had anyone staying with them by that name. Several hotels refused to even look, claiming they didn’t give out customer information. By the 15th or 16th hotel I found someone who did have a C. Floyd as a guest, but when they connected me to their room it ended up being a woman named Cassandra. I gave up calling hotels after that.
What else could I do? Call the police? That was probably a bad idea. I had zero information beyond Bryson making vague comments. The police would look at me like I was a nutjob.
It might help to have documented police interaction in case something eventually did happen to them, but that didn’t matter to me. I wanted to stop anything bad from happening altogether.
I resorted to snooping. Cas had taken a backpack full of stuff, but left his mostly-full suitcase upstairs. A few minutes later and I found the name of their auditing company and his direct manager. Another minute after that and I had her personal cell phone.
“Please listen carefully,” I quickly said. “Casimiro Floyd and his team are in danger. Milton Bryson is going to hurt, or even kill, them!”
“Who is this?” she asked in a surprised voice.
“My name is Alexandra Lewis. I work at Blackrock Energy…”
She laughed into the receiver. “We’ve gotten enough threats from you guys.”
“This isn’t a threat!” I said.
“Yeah, it’s a promise, right? Fuck off.”
She hung up, and wouldn’t answer my calls after that.
Despair soon settled in. Bryson was two-faced, and had only been dangling a job in front of my face to convince me to get close to the auditors. I didn’t have a future there, and my job as a temp wouldn’t last. And the four guys who I was growing close to—some more than others—were in potentially grave danger.